The Chosen One
by MrsMargeryLovett
Summary: There was a second Potter child, forgotten on the night of her parents death. Adopted by the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange, and lusted over by the filth of the Death Eaters, will the true Chosen One ever be revealed? Rated T for teenage sex later on
1. Chapter 1

**A/N-** I don't know why, I just feel it appropriate to start using song clippings at the beginning of my chapters. They're all going to be based on songs by The Dresden Dolls, simply for they rock. And a lot of their songs sort of fit the mood of this story. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer** I don't own any of these characters except for Tempest, although might come up with some later if I feel like it

_Say what you will_

_I am the kill_

_The only thing that keeps you really truly safe from being real…_

_- The Kill, Dresden Dolls_

A fine smoke started to be blown about by the wind, disappearing rapidly. In fact, within a few hours, the only evidence of any fire at all would be the charred remains of the house that lay in ruins on the ground, scattered across the grass. No one who walked by could tell any more what had happened here. At least, not the truth. Some may have thought it was a fire, another may have thought that the building had been imploded or demolished. Of course, there were those who did know what had happened, but at this moment in time, they could not be seen.

However, there were indeed those who knew of the events that had taken place here. A few had known in advance, but most only realised the terror of events that had gone by moments after it was too late. There had been speculation between the most knowledgeable about what would happen, and how. The renowned Albus Dumbledore had spent many a month researching, and had come to the conclusion that one of three things would happen, all of which would unfortunately resulted in the same causalities and deaths.

The first of these options was that a young Neville Longbottom of West Yorkshire would be discovered at around one o'clock in the morning. His parents, not being the best wizards of their time, but most certainly within the most skilled Aurors of their generation, would be sleeping when Lord Voldemort came to their home. It was the most peaceful of the options, as the next course of action that Lord Voldemort could take was then to silently step into the child's room and kill him with a quick spell. Then, knowing that the determination of loving parents, however strange to him it was, he would kill the parents so as to stop another pair of Aurors catching him or his followers.

The second of these options was that a young Harry Potter would be instead chosen. Lord Voldemort has long set out a plan in attempts to make Lily and James Potter join the Death Eaters, but had failed. So his fearing servant, a friend of the Potters, was sent to them as their secret keeper. It was simple enough to gain their trust. In Voldemort's opinion, anyone who refused his cause was a simple person, who most people would label as good. It wasn't true, though. They were simply weak, and being so, they trusted in the good of other people. How foolish. Dumbledore knew very well that the Potters had appointed a secret keeper, and suspected that it was this person that would be their downfall.

The third of these options was yet another Potter child. It was not well known among those who knew of the Prophecy that it spoke of neither gender specifically, and so they did not expect that the Potter daughter could have been of any importance. Tempest Potter, the youngest twin, was therefore only a small option. Dumbledore knew well enough that Lord Voldemort would underestimate a girl, and so knew that she was safe enough. This brought slight comfort to him, although he could not deny that her health was put at risk simply by being in the same house as Harry Potter, her brother.

These three theories were the only that Albus Dumbledore had, and although they were vague, he knew certainly that it was one of the three. What misfortune the man had when he discovered that indeed, his suspicions had been correct. Having known that Voldemort knew the Potters to be a talented pairing of wizards, and having knowledge enough of Voldemort, he managed to guess that it was young Harry that was destined to be murdered. With a slight sorrow due to the fact, Albus Dumbledore was forced to admit that he would have indeed come to the same conclusion. Although, never in all of his years would he have expected, though, for a young child to triumph over the most powerful wizard of all time.

The evening of these events brought on a fine mist in the darkness. Long ago, earlier that evening, the crack of a wizard apparating to the destination sounded, one Rubeus Hagrid. It was at this point where he saw a young Sirius Black, who pleaded that the giant should take the enchanted motorbike he possessed, in hopes that his godchild would be saved and given a better life. He knew that this would happen, as Rubeus Hagrid had been renowned for his business with Albus Dumbledore. After the roar of the motorbike leaving the ground, and another crack as Sirius Black escaped, a silence settled across the area.

That is, with the exception of a small whimper. The same whimper of a child that is awakened, but unsure of what it is that awakened her. Young Tempest Potter, at this moment blinking widely, most likely wondering why her mother did not tend to her, or why her father did not come and collect her. Upon a short break, in which time she realised no one came for her, she wailed in a most pitiful manner, breaking the silence. She did not even halt when another crack sounded through the air of a fourth person appearing that evening.

A slightly younger Bellatrix Lestrange appeared in a flash at what used to be the doorstep of the Potters home. A small smile was traced upon her lips as she looked ahead, hearing the sound of a child's cry. Taking a deep breath and settling the rate of her heart beat, she moved ahead. This was, after all, the job that had been set for her by the Dark Lord, and it was said as her personal errand. Knowing that it was her, and no one else, that had been given this task…well, no pleasure in the world could describe it more, while highlighted with the bitter taste of remorse. It was nothing sentimental. She simply wished that she had been sent to take care of the Potters instead. In her own opinion, she would have been able to convert them and take hold of the child, rather than dispatching wizards with such potential for the Cause.

"Where are you?" she muttered to herself, looking through the rubble that had been left. She could not see the cause of the weeping anywhere, and began to fret slightly. A pleased Lord might grant her with little more than a nod of the head, but she had learnt the hard way never to displease Him. Do so, and one might find themselves six feet under. All of a sudden, her foot brushed against a bundle of material. She looked down, hearing that the whimper had stopped.

"Hello there," she said sweetly, the sort of voice she gave her victims. She leant over and took hold of the bundle carefully, pulling it close towards her. With careful precision, she tugged gently at the blanket that covered the child's face slightly, and grinned maliciously.

"We're going to go on a little trip, aren't we?" she said, unaware of the insanity behind her tone. In fact, she was unaware of the fact she had become slightly manic at all. "Have someone for you to meet, don't we?"

The child only whimpered in reply, unsure around the fact that stared down at her. Bellatrix stared down at the child, tilting her head slightly. A thought came to mind while she looked, her eyes opening wide at the very idea of what flew through her head. She looked around the grounds, as if to make sure that no one could hear her thoughts- the Dark Lord had punished her enough times for the thoughts in her mind. Again, she looked at the child, her smile spreading further across her face.

"The Potter's kid, eh?" she muttered. "Most talented witch and wizard of their generation. The Dark Lord has told His followers just as much, you know? Imagine, child, what child may come from them." She giggled slightly, a manic sound rather than the tinkle a child might have wished to hear. "Imagine what power you may possess…even now, what power you hold. How else would He be gone? How else would you still be alive, child?"

Bellatrix held the child to her breast, looking around again. Her mind, brilliant as it was, had already sought out her plan. She knew that the Dark Lord was gone. She would not have been here at this moment, otherwise. She remembered clearly the course of action to be taken. If He were not to return, if the Potters put up more of a battle than He had first anticipated, He would call upon Bellatrix for help. All would have gone to plan had it not been for one single child, the reason she was there now. He had not been able to summon her, nor had there been enough time for her to know that she must go to Him. For this, she detested the child she held in her arms. Yet…how much power did she hold in her hands at that moment? Enough power to destroy the one that she had held dearly, He who was to rule over the world, He who used his power to kill countless people without remorse and pity. The thought that this child in her arms could defeat all of that was simply giddying.

For so long, she had striven for her Lord's adoration, or even to be noticed as anything different from the scum that worked for Him by her side. Such efforts were, of course, wasted away. She would be nothing more than a servant to the Dark Lord, and knew very well at that moment it was so. So holding a child in her arms that could defeat such a wizard brought upon her a feeling of power that she had not before felt. It no longer whimpered, and a calm fell across the grounds. Bellatrix looked down at the child, and was decided. Now that the Lord was gone, there was nothing left for her. Nothing except for running away. To run, and to keep running, with the child still in her grasp. In sixteen years or so, the child would be strong, would have been taught the magic that was needed to conquer the world. Things that Bellatrix herself had not been taught until it was too late to use it.

With a swift movement, she turned and walked, sure enough that it was easier for someone to intercept her if she apparated. By foot, she was quicker than other Death Eaters, and much lighter on her feet.

"You'll be powerful, you know," she muttered down to the child who was near enough asleep again in her arms. "My own little child…think of it, the mother of the one who rules over the world. Not as good as a lover, I suppose, but I can always settle for second best." Bellatrix received no reply, but she much preferred it that way. Best the child be taught proper manners and proper ruling before it answered to her, lest it utter something repulsively stupid and innocent. Such speech was not something she wished to hear, and not was needed for the world to hear. What it needed was a sharp tongue that spoke only of power, of something strong enough to control.

"And indeed you will," she continued, speaking at random interventions of her thoughts. "Think of it, my dear, you'll own the world one day. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Own the world?" asked a silvery voice. Bellatrix spun quickly on her heel, clutching the child protectively.

"Who's there?" she asked lowly, her voice losing all the feigned sweetness it once held, and instead returning to a bitter tone. A figure appeared out of the light mist of the ruins, his white-blonde hair shining in the dark night. "Lucius," she seethed, her teeth gritted.

"I suppose we should have expected this," he said, taunting her. "Never send a woman to do a man's job."

"You don't honestly believe in that," she spat. "I don't need you to pretend you haven't had it in for me, Malfoy."

"You're right, I don't like you, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. Only a woman would ever get so sentimental over a child." Bellatrix growled lowly.

"Sentimental?" she laughed darkly. "What's so sentimental about being on the safe side?"

"You pin your hopes on a child I doubt can even sit up," he drawled, a slight smile on his lips.

"A child who will one day conquer the world in ways the Dark Lord could not have imagined," she said. "This child I hold here, he managed to kill the Dark Lord, Malfoy! Imagine what can be done with the years to come!"

Lucius Malfoy moved forward, and without explaining his actions snatched the child from Bellatrix. She grappled viciously to regain her hold on the child, but was fruitless as Lucius held the child, and inspected it. He was curious at first, and then at last uttered a bitter sound, not entirely human. He thrust the child back at Bellatrix, who took her defensive position again with the child's head against her breast.

"This child did not defeat the Lord!" he cried out, taking hold of his wand. "You fool! You have come too late and taken the wrong child!"

"It was only this one left," she told him. "This one must have survived him."

"Perhaps you have not heard the rumours," he said through gritted teeth. "One of the Potter children was taken by that worthless half-breed of Dumbledore's. If you had at all listened to anyone, you would have known that this was not the right child!"

"What does it matter?" she asked passionately. "Even if this is not Harry, she is still born of the most talented witch and wizard of their age. I doubt there will be anything but pure talent in this child's veins."

"You hold too much faith," he said, pointing the wand directly at the child. "Let it be, now."

"I won't let you kill her, Lucius."

"Lestrange, you-"

"I said, I won't let you kill her," she repeated. "There is such potential within her even now- kill her and you will go against everything the Cause stood for."

He looked down at the child, who had now fallen fully asleep and was gently breathing in Bellatrix's arms. It was true that there was potential, but he did not think it worth the risk. The Dark Lord had been cruel to his servants, and he doubted highly that this girl would be any better when powerful enough. However, there was logic in Bellatrix's words, and he could not deny when even a woman was right. With a bitter sigh, he placed his wand back in his robes, glaring at Bellatrix.

"You'd do best not to tell anyone where she came from," he muttered.

"What, and let those creeps just have their way with her and think they can get away with it?"

"And here's me thinking you'd rather she exacts revenge exactly how she wants," he said, a malicious smirk spreading across his face. Bellatrix opened her mouth, but could not think of how to retort, and so left the silence as it was. Lucius laughed once, briefly, and then disappeared with a crack. Left alone in the abandoned land, Bellatrix scowled at the darkness before her. There was only one thing she could concentrate on for that time, though.

"The mother of the most powerful witch in the world…" she muttered to herself. After a pause, she nodded proudly." It'll do me fine enough.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sleep now, never fear_

_All your animals are here_

_-The Sheep Song, The Dresden Dolls_

Although there was an assertive nature about Bellatrix Lestrange, it could not be denied that there was much more harshness within Rodolphus Lestrange. It was expected that he would not take kindly to a child within his household, and Bellatrix was forced to take up defence, knowing that otherwise it was likely her new daughter would have been killed.

"Why'd you have to bring that fucking thing into our house?" Rodolphus asked bitterly as she put it to bed- or, to put the phrase correctly, a pile of blankets that acted as a bed for the time being for the child. "Why note just leave it where you found it?"

"Otherwise she would have died," Bellatrix replied simply. "Couldn't let that happen, could I?"

"And why not?" She paused, knowing very well it would not help to explain to her husband that this was indeed one of the most powerful children in the world.

"I would rather I were the one to kill a child, rather than allow nature to take its course," she said. "Then I gathered a liking to the thing."

"I don't care how much you like it, I'd rather it was gone."

"But I would rather it stayed, so I suppose she will."

Bellatrix smiled to herself, knowing very well that she had managed quite easily to anger her husband. It was a rare time she could do so without a slap to the face. She looked down again at the child that wriggled nervously, twisting herself in the blankets.

"If you're so attached, what's its name?"

"It's a she, dear."

"Well, then, what's her name?"

She paused again, unsure. Of course, the Dark Lord had told everyone of the three children before He disappeared, and so everyone would know the child was named Tempest. She doubted, though, that anyone would automatically make the connection. After all, she more often tortured children rather than take pity on them, and it would be very unlikely she would have taken pity on the child of an enemy. Despite this, she thought it best to use the girl's name given to her by the Potters.

"Tempest," she said finally.

"You chose that?"

"Sure," she shrugged. Rodolphus sighed, glaring at his wife with both an annoyance and disgust. He had made it clear enough the moment they were married that he would refuse to allow a child in the house, let alone have a child. Although, on this certain night the two were spared the argument of allowing Tempest to remain. Rodolphus was renowned as one of the more faithful of Death Eaters, and at the loss of the Dark Lord he could not find it in himself to put effort towards arguing with Bellatrix. As she still sat by Tempest's side, Rodolphus left the room, weary from the effort of trying to silence himself as to the subject of his Lord.

"I doubt he will mourn the Dark Lord for long," Bellatrix said to the child sweetly, without as much force as she had used when she first spoke to the child. "Once he knows of your power, your potential, he shall worship you more than he ever could anyone else."

In reply, Tempest did nothing more than stare up at Bellatrix with wide eyes, a tired expression upon her young face.-

"Our Lord is gone, child," she continued, placing a finger in the palm of the flailing hand. "Rodolphus shall soon enough learn that you will take His place."

Bellatrix watched on as Tempest yawned and fell into a quick sleep. A candid smile threatened to burst forth at the sight, but she held it within herself and simply stroked the fine hair on the top of the child's head. She enjoyed the pleasant difference of company, having been surrounded by many a year by incompetent men, a treasured man who would never love her back, and her sister who had as of late given birth to yet another bratty young boy. What a pleasure it would be moulding a girl into her own companion, one who would not detest or resent her mother figure.

A loud crack echoed through the room as Bellatrix pulled another blanket over the sleeping child, and caused her to jump to her feet abruptly, hovering by Tempest's bedside. Her immediate shock was subsided quickly, and a frown appeared on her face.

"Do you ever knock, Severus?"

"I didn't see much point in it," Severus Snape replied, moving past Bellatrix and towards the bundle of blankets. A strange hiss emitted from between Bellatrix's gritted teeth in a protective manner, but he paid no attention to it.

"What are you here for?" she asked.

"Is this the child?"

"Firstly answer my question."

"I think I answered it well enough. To find out whether the rumours were true." Bellatrix blinked twice, surprised.

"Rumours? Rodolphus and Lucius are the only ones who know about her."

"Do they know where she came from?"

"Lucius does," she said after a reluctant pause. "You think she'd still be here if _he_ knew?" she asked, pointing a thumb behind her towards the stairs. Severus smirked.

"Of course not." He looked down at the sleeping baby, and then his smirk disappeared, leaving quite a sour expression. "Dumbledore told us this might happen."

"You and your precious Dumbledore," Bellatrix spat childishly. "I don't know how you manage to work with the man."

"He has vital information for us," he replied. "I daresay without him I wouldn't know whose child this was."

Bellatrix swallowed thickly.

"But…how does Dumbledore know?"

"When that oaf Hagrid only brought back the boy, he began to suspect one of us would have gotten to the other. There were no signs that the child had been murdered, so he expected that someone had taken her. Seems he outwitted you, Bellatrix."

"You should tell that man of yours not to think so much. At his age it might kill him, if I don't get there first."

"Say what you will, he still knows exactly what has happened, albeit he is unsure that you are the one to have stolen her."

"Tempest," she said quickly.

"What?"

"Her name. Tempest."

Severus Snape paused, closing his eyes in thought. He breathed deeply, and for those moments Bellatrix watched him warily, unsure of what he was thinking or planning. When his eyes again opened, he stared at the woman with a distasteful look. Without warning, his hand grasped her neck and pushed her against the nearest wall, his other hand grasping his wand which was now positioned at the hollow of her throat. She did not flinch, having been in this position with many a man before.

"It would do you best, Bellatrix, to not be so attached."

"Attached?" she laughed, shaking her head. "I thought it best she have a name. There is no attachment for her."

"We both know you'd sooner murder most children than name them. Heck, you'd rather murder your own husband than go near a child."

"That's not saying much, now, is it?" she giggled, a manic laughter of sorts.

"Compose yourself," he barked, pulling her forward and slamming her into the wall again with a force that caused a slight gasp amidst the laughter. "This isn't going to end as you wish it, Bellatrix."

"Do you not know the power the Potters had possessed?" Bellatrix asked. "If you had, you would know this will end exactly as I wish it."

"The Dark Lord may return," he reminded her. "However dearly I would love to see you punished, it may be something most stomachs could not bear."

"I daresay if ever He came back, He would enjoy the fact the I attempted to carry on His work past His death."

"Do you honestly think so?"

"Of course," she replied simply, her eyes wide. "Of course, I shall not be punished, instead rewarded for this."

Severus sighed, unleashing Bellatrix's neck. He glanced at the baby again, his hand gripping his wand tightly and his thoughts flying through his head. As if reading them, Bellatrix moved towards him with a light smile still playing on her lips.

"I know you want to kill her," she said tauntingly. "But think about it. Either I get punished for raising her, or you get punished for killing her. You sure you want to risk it?"

He set his jaw firmly, and at last placed his wand back in his robes reluctantly, wishing for nothing more to murder the child. He wasn't exactly sure why. Perhaps it was because she honestly could rule over the world one day, with an iron fist worse than the Dark Lords. Or perhaps it was because it would be cruel leaving a child within Bellatrix's care. Most likely worse than the Potter boy's fate. However, it was true that although it was unlikely he should be punished for murdering the child, he could not allow himself to do so, no matter much he wished to.

"People will be looking for her, you know," he reminded Bellatrix. "Dumbledore has already told us that the Order will be searching."

"But they won't find her, will they? You're not going to say a word."

"I wouldn't put it past some of the members to drop a potion in my goblet. This child won't stay much longer than a year at most."

"If anyone were to find out," she snapped, suddenly bright-eyed, "then it will be as good as you murdering her now. Severus, if anyone finds out where she is, then our plans will be over! The Dark Lord may never return to us, and I doubt the other followers would be too happy if you were to loose our last hope of a stronger world."

"Again, you have held your hopes on someone who can't even understand it."

"Or better yet, you refuse to acknowledge the fact that a new world will be made by the hands of someone else!"

"Hopes are better put elsewhere, Bellatrix," he warned her. "I daresay you'd have better luck with a dog rather than a Potter."

"I don't need to hear your judgement on them," she said boldly. "None of us cared for them. Two twits if you ask me. But that doesn't mean they weren't powerful."

"I didn't deny it."

"Then you should know well enough how important it is she lives."

He did not reply to her, but turned bitterly from the woman who still stood protectively by the child. He shook his head, pausing in deep thought. Bellatrix nodded proudly, although he could not see. She knew, however, that she was secured in Tempest's safety- her only concern at this point in time. At last, Severus sighed irritably and turned to the door.

"Dumbledore is a smart enough man, he will find out sooner or later."

"I will hold you to blame if he does," she said bitterly. He ignored her, walking again to the front door. In a single moment, he was gone. "Wish he'd use the bloody door the first time," she muttered after his disappearance. Silence rang through the house again, not even a sound emitting from Rodolphus nor the wind outside.

Bellatrix looked down at Tempest, who had started to whimper and cry as she awakened suddenly. Frightened of waking her own husband, she quickly took hold of the child and brought her close to her chest.

"Shush, now," she murmured lightly in the baby's ear with very little result. She bounced Tempest gently in her arms, still with no avail. Hearing a slight creaking of the floorboards upstairs, she whispered a song desperately in her ear. "_Goodbye,_" she began, her voice cracking slightly under the effort of not simply screaming. "_Olive sky, I am crying all the time…_"

She looked up at the ceiling, noticing that as the child's cries died down, so did the footsteps from above. Assured, she turned back to Tempest, a smile on her face.

"_There there, don't despair…we will find your sheep somewhere…"_


	3. Chapter 3

_They say, "Come with your arms raised high!"  
__Well, they're never gonna get me,  
Like a bullet through a flock of doves...  
To wage this war against your faith in me_

_- You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison, My Chemical Romance_

The months went by in which many of the original Death Eaters had hidden away within the ministry, the safest place for them to go. Some worked elsewhere, places where they would be favoured and not suspected. There were those, of course, that would not leave their pits of despair.

Bellatrix was doubtful in leaving her place, having for so long been under the suspicion that should she leave, her and Rodolphus would be found by the Ministry and eliminated. That, or much worse. The very thought of prison made a shiver run through her spine. Within the few months that followed the death of the Potters, though, such fears passed by. If anyone who had taken a place in the Ministry were to give the Lestrange name away, they would already be imprisoned.

Young Tempest was quick to grow, and within those first few months had learnt to think of Bellatrix as the mother she wished to be, and learnt, to Rodolphus's delight, not to cry incessantly at night. Those who still remained behind all knew of Tempest by this point, and the initial shock of Bellatrix taking in a child soon passed away. Therefore, life was as average as they could wish. Of course, people still died. There were those that remained because they wished to carry out the deeds they believed the Dark Lord would have wished them to, rather than being unable to summon courage enough to leave.

It was a dim Saturday evening in the winter when this story continues. A fine mist, not unlike the night when the Potters died, hovered a few inches above the ground. A crack sounded as a young witch apparated in the middle of the street, a calm expression on her face. Anyone who happened to be on the street at the time took no notice of her, and anyone who did simply acknowledged her with a small nod of the head, as you would to a passing acquaintance. The woman pulled her cloak to her, shivering slightly in the crisp evening breeze of winter. She moved onward, her light hair billowing in the wind.

Within mere moments, the woman arrived at the doorstep of the house known to be Bellatrix Lestrange's. She looked up from the doorstep at the house the towered above her, and with that, she knocked upon the door thrice. The sound echoed throughout the house within, and seconds later, Bellatrix Lestrange appeared at the door. There was a confused expression on her face for a short while, until she smiled with some essence of force.

"Narcissa," she said in a sweet voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't visit my own sister?" Narcissa asked in return, a sweet enough question, although it was more abrupt than the sisterly fashion that is most common.

"Most sisters don't wait around ten years," Bellatrix pointed out lightly. "They also prefer to ask before walking in," she added as Narcissa pushed past her, making her way into the hallway. Bellatrix followed, curious to say the least what her sister had to say. It wasn't often they met each other, and when they did, there was often important in it.

"I should have you know Lucius didn't want me coming here."

"It doesn't surprise me," she replied honestly. Bellatrix stared at her sister with a slight distaste, although refused to say a word about it. She saw as Narcissa briefly glanced at young Tempest, who sat on the floor clutching a fallen cushion from the chair.

"You've still taken her in, then?" Narcissa asked, looking up blankly at the wall, as if not daring to look anyone in the eye, no matter their age.

"As well you know," she muttered in return. "That isn't why you are here, though, is it?"

"Obviously not." Narcissa turned to look at her sister, still refusing to look her in the eye. "I had some news, actually."

"What can be so important that you couldn't have sent an owl?"

"You always kill my owls," she said musingly. "But that's not the point. I didn't want this to be intercepted."

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can tell me that can't be intercepted." Narcissa paused, and then sighed heavily, her shoulders lowering for the first time since she entered the household.

"Rosier's been taken," she said slowly. "Last night."

"About time," Bellatrix said smugly. "He was always a prick."

"A prick who knows you're still here."

"He's always held well under torture."

"Do you really think he'd care too much about that when you're at stake here?" Narcissa asked, her voice somewhat more passionate. "Bella, I just want you to know that just because you stay put, doesn't mean you're going to fool the Ministry at all. Rosier will have no problem telling them where you are."

"We can get away," Bellatrix said after a brief pause. "It's not like I haven't gotten past the Ministry before."

"Maybe you have, but she hasn't." Narcissa nodded in the child's direction pointedly, causing Bellatrix to jump slightly.

"And you think I'd let them get to her?"

"Bella, this is you we're talking about."

"Well, any other kid I might have said yes." In a fleeting moment of protective instinct, Bellatrix bent down and took Tempest carefully in her arms. "This one's too valuable."

"We have all heard your theories, Bella, but that doesn't matter. They will get her if you are going to stay here much longer."

"Then they'll have to fight," she spat bitterly, clutching Tempest closely. "I'm not giving her up."

"They will not ask you to give her up," Narcissa pointed out. "They will only take you by force, and most likely send the girl back to wherever they took the Potter boy."

"Did you come only to torment me with the fact?"

"I have already said, I have come to warn you."

"When you know very well I will not listen."

"At the very least I could attempt to save you." Narcissa sighed, clutching the inside of her cloak in a form of angst. "It seems my time is wasted here. Let you rot in Azkaban if you'd rather do so than listen to me." With that, Narcissa turned sharply on her heel and moved towards the hallway. It was only a short, pitiful sound that made her stop.

"Wait," Bellatrix murmured, her voice shy and quiet, as if she were a child. Narcissa paused, and then looked back over her shoulder.

"What is it, Bella?"

Bellatrix looked down at the child in her arms, her features solemn. She sighed heavily, then looked up at her sister again with wide eyes.

"You know as well as I do that she will do not good for them," she whispered, putting emphasis on the word 'them'.

"No one does, but it is the way the world works."

"But it does not have to be."

"I'm afraid it-"

"It doesn't!" Bellatrix cried out, rushing towards her sister. She clutched Narcissa's hand, pulling her arms until they were hooked awkwardly around Tempest.

"What on earth are you-"

"You must take her, Cissy," Bellatrix said earnestly, imploring her sister with the use of her childhood nickname. "You can tutor her, you can raise her as your own. If she remains with me she will be caught, she will be raised as a Potter, her talent will be wasted."

"You're speaking in absolute nonsense, Bella," Narcissa said softly.

"Nonsense, of course, but such nonsense has never failed me!" Bellatrix looked one last time at the child, and then moved a few steps back, as if to distance herself. "You haven't a problem with children, I know. I'm pretty sure you had a kid-"

"Draco," she muttered. "It's been almost two years, I'd rather you'd remember this sort of thing."

"I've never been one for paying attention. But Cissy, you obviously know about kids. Like I said, I'd rather she was raised by someone who won't just allow her to waste away her power." Narcissa bit her lower lip, looking down at the child that stared blankly towards her.

"Lucius would never allow it, you know."

"Neither you nor I have ever cared much for his opinion."

"True," she murmured, smiling slightly at the fact. "I should only hope he does not kill the thing." Bellatrix's eyes opened widely, and she rushed to her sister, embracing her warmly.

"It can't be long," she said fervently. "I'm sure of it."

"I have known you be sure before, Bella."

"But this time it is actually planned," Bellatrix explained, smiling. "I'm more than certain of it. She will be at her peak long before she would have if the Potters hadn't died. Fifteen at the most, I should think."

"You're dreaming," Narcissa said, shaking her head. "A child can not learn so quickly."

"Cissy, keep faith in her. She will learn, I know it!"

"Even if she did, Bella, you would not see her."

"Tempest will be able to free us from Azkaban," she said earnestly. "The Dark Lord has done it for those who were most loyal to him, and I know this child will do it for me. Raise her to know my name and I am sure she will free me."

"Is this how you find it so easy to give in?" Narcissa asked doubtfully.

"It is not giving up, Cissy, I'm sure."

"Once you would have put up more of a fight. I came only to warn you, to give you that chance."

"I would not dare take that chance with the fate of the Cause within my hands." She looked down at Tempest briefly. "Well, your hands now."

"How could you ever stand it?"

"Azkaban? I'm sure I'll manage it."

"People go insane in there, Bella, and as much as it pains me to admit it I do not want that happening to my sister."

"You're far too kind, Cissy. But if this is what I have to do to keep her safe, I'll do it."

"Could you be gathering affection, Bella?" Narcissa teased, forcing the humour in her voice. Bellatrix shook her head quickly and firmly.

"Protective, at most. She's only a kid."

"Draco's a kid," Narcissa said contemptuously.

"You were always a little different in that respect, Cissy." Bellatrix paused, looking doubtfully at the window. "It's late, you know. Lucius will be wondering where you are."

"He's out at the Ministry. He won't be back for a while. And the servant's looking after Draco."

"Then you should at least put Tempest to bed." Narcissa nodded, taking the pointedly said fact that it was late. "I suppose this will be goodbye for now," Bellatrix continued musingly.

"I suppose so," Narcissa agreed blankly. The two looked at each other for a small while, and with that silence between them, the next sound to be heard would be a loud crack as Narcissa disappeared, not leaving a single sign that she had been there.

It did not take long for Bellatrix and Rodolphus to be found. Rosier had indeed given their whereabouts- not that it had helped him in any way at all. He was placed back in Azkaban, and was fated never to leave it until many years later. Rodolphus attempted to fight his way out, but he was doomed not to win. Of course it would have been impossible. About ten different members of the Ministry, including three from the Order of the Phoenix, has appeared to arrest the two. Bellatrix herself barely put up a fuss. Only the amount that would make her any less conspicuous.

Lucius Malfoy was in fact rather shocked, and slightly irate, at the fact that his wife had so freely decided to take in the child. He hadn't much liked the idea of Bellatrix attempting to raise a power of such force. He had to admit to himself, most of her theory was full proof, and it was likely that she was correct in her thinking. Therefore, he would have preferred to have no part in her actions. However, it did not help when she gave such a source of power to her sister, therefore landing himself in the middle of it all. There wasn't much point in arguing, though. He had spent much time in not arguing with his wife, knowing very well she was powerful enough to blow his head off in mere seconds if she wished to. It was only the maternal care she had for Draco that had stopped her temper for the time being.

So with this in mind, a new family had been born from another. Tempest was young enough not to remember any different family, and for quite a while she accepted herself as Lucius's and Narcissa's daughter. No one knew of her existence except those within the small family, and so they were left at peace for the most part. In fact, the married couple began to think that nothing out of the ordinary could happen except what had been planned.

At least, that is what they thought.


	4. Chapter 4

And I loved you in bright orange  
And in violet and in green  
And I loved you in such colours  
As your eyes have never ever seen  
_- Colour Blind, The Dresden Dolls_

To those who had known of her parentage, they would gladly say that they would be proud of how Tempest had grown. Raised by the Malfoys, she held a certain dignity towards herself that some would find overbearing, and knew very well that there were those that were treated as a lesser to her, and although a slight pity came to her mind she had no trouble in ignoring those feelings. However, as I have said, there would be those who were proud of her growth. Despite such proud feelings, she had inherited the kindness that was within her genetics. Of course, it did her no good to show this kindness, and so one would have to read into her words to find it.

Lucius had long learnt to accept Tempest as the daughter he never wished to have, although soon enough grew used to her, and even gained the same affection he held for his own son- however scarce this affection was. Narcissa disagreed, however, and found the girl rather disturbing to be around. She had plenty enough reason to. She had shown strong talent even from a young and unaware age, and so Narcissa believed that she was nothing less than a danger to her son. It was true she was, of course. Draco had become used to getting burns every time he poked Tempest to a certain extent.

As she turned seven, the Malfoy parents could not help but worry. The young girl had long learnt to read and speak fluently, and they knew well enough that it was simply enough for her to find a spell book and attempt magic by herself. They certainly wouldn't put it past her to be able to perform the spells before she was enlisted at Hogwarts. It was at this thought that they pondered the idea of Tempest going to Hogwarts. They were not yet aware whether or not anyone knew that the child lived with them, or even if anyone knew of her existence. Lucius expected not, as at any gatherings that the Ministry held they never expected a daughter. Any magic that was performed by her in her young years was simply assumed to be either Draco or his parents.

There came a day not long after Draco's eighth birthday when it was announced that Hogwarts would be deciding who would be going to their school in the year Draco and Tempest would turn eleven. Lucius had certainly not expected to be proud, having known since before his son's birth that he would be admitted into the school. Even when he found out, he knew he was not exactly proud. However, what would be pride in a normal parent was transferred to fear. Years ago, Bellatrix had spoken fervently about her plans for the child. At the time those words had meant nothing, and had even put pity in his heart for her foolishness. That foolishness now inspired some truth, however.

Narcissa, of course, cared very little for what happened to Tempest, although she was bound by the sanctity of her marriage to follow the worry that came upon Lucius. Although, her main interests lay with Draco and his education rather than the child she was forced to adopt. Lucius cared very little about where his wife's interests lay, and instead devoted himself for a month in searching through books and past records for a spell that might help him, or a potion that may ease their situation.

It did not take him too long to find the spell that would save him. He had expected from the beginning it would not take him long, as he had always been skilled in researching. If he were not, he was very doubtful that he would ever have gained the knowledge that he had, which both had gained him a high position within the Ministry at the present time, and also a high respect in the eyes of those who served the Dark Lord when he had once been in power. The spell he had found was a simple enough one, but one that was suspicious when used by certain people. It was the same that was used upon Hogwarts castle, making it untraceable by Muggles. Lucius found that it would be easy to change the spell to a certain degree so that instead the spell could be used upon a person, and instead would be untraceable by wizards and Muggles alike.

His triumph in finding this spell, though, did not come without its difficulties. As someone in his position, he could not afford to be recorded using such spells. There was no reason for him to use such a spell, and there was always a reason needed. He would not be able to find an excuse at all, no matter how many times he attempted to think of one in his mind. Unfortunately, the only thing he could bring to thought was who specifically could ever get away with such spells without question, or at least be able to think of a reason enough to perform it.

It was at this time that Lucius thought of those who would be willing to help him, and those who had the talent to do so. This, of course, was not a very long task, and took him no longer than a day to contemplate over. There were few that could perform the spell that were not in Azkaban that he would trust with the job, and he was doubtful of those people would carry it out. In fact, he came to the conclusion that there was only one person he could ever persuade to do it.

Severus Snape.

Lucius shuddered at the very thought of the man, never having fully been able to forgive him for his alliance with Dumbledore. Of course, it had all been in the name of the Cause, but he still could not stand it. After all, it earned him more respect at the time than Lucius could have asked for from the Dark Lord. However, it had already been affirmed in his mind that there was no other man for the job, and he was decided enough in the plan. Narcissa was glad enough for him to leave, seeing as he intended to take Tempest with him. Nothing could really please her more, as Lucius knew very well.

Tempest herself knew very little of the reason she was leaving the house for the day, and understood only that it was to visit a man her father had known for some time. Any more information she could have been given would not have been understood, and so no one told her anything else.

"You mustn't be frightened of him," Lucius told the child after they apparated outside Severus's door.

"Why should I be frightened?" she asked in a quiet voice, already edged with the fear her father had induced into her.

"It simply wouldn't surprise me if you were."

Tempest nodded slowly, looking forward with a composed expression that she had always been taught to use in such situations. With the very same expression, Lucius took hold of his cane and tapped thrice on the door with the silver skull that sat atop it. Almost automatically, the door opened, and Severus Snape stood with hard features, caused by annoyance and disturbance.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Severus asked after surveying the two.

"We were in the neighbourhood," Lucius said with a sophisticated smirk. "We thought we would come by."

"We?" he asked, looking down at Tempest. "Lucius, I wouldn't have thought you would so openly associate yourself with children, let alone this one." Tempest flinched slightly, but it was barely seen by either of the men that towered above her.

"That is one of the reasons I wished to talk to you, Severus."

"An even rarer occasion," he said, rolling his eyes. With a swift wave of the hand, he beckoned the two into the house. Tempest dared not look about the house which she entered, knowing it bad manners to stare in the awe that she felt. Lucius, however, took no trouble in forgetting his own lesson that he taught both his son and his 'daughter', and instead looked at the walls, scrutinising the house.

"I would rather you did not judge me so freely, Lucius," Severus said as he offered a seat to them. "It is small, but we do not all acquire your extravagant tastes."

"Not extravagant, simply tasteful."

"Why is it you came here?" he asked, spitting the question. Lucius arched an eyebrow and looked briefly at Tempest. Severus quickly understood, and slowly taking out his wand so as not to startle the young girl who looked down at the floor, not even noticing the movement, muttered out the word _Muffliato_. "She cannot hear us now, so you may speak."

"I wish to speak concerning her and Hogwarts."

"What concerns may there be? They will quite easily be able to give her a place."

"That is what troubles me. You may think me mad for listening to whatever my sister-in-law has ever said, but I do not believe Hogwarts to do Tempest any good at all."

"You do not believe that she had a point, do you?" Severus asked, sneering.

"She has no chance at all of such power, but I have seen her grow and she has potential of magic that outshines the both of us."

"I doubt you can trick Dumbledore, Lucius. He will find out about the child."

"That is why I have come to you."

"I am only curious why you would bother coming to me at all. Your distaste for my job is quite evident, and I must say I've never been all too fond of you either."

"What importance does that hold to me? You have not yet heard my question."

"Lucius, you forget that Occlumency is a very elite skill that you never bothered to learn. I know very well why you're here."

"Because you have not yet denied my request, then, I assume you will help me."

"The first question you must ask yourself is if I can help you, rather than asking me if I will help you."

"You needn't lie to me, I know very well that you can perform the spell. I know that you helped Dumbledore perform it on the school, and I doubt that you can not perform it on a single child."

"Then you may now ask me if I will help you instead. I will save you much trouble in saying no now."

"Severus, you are the only person who will have no questions asked about it if you do."

"How will that at all persuade me?"

"It won't," Lucius admitted, although his features did not change to show a hint of disappointment. Rather, he showed a determination and pride. "However, we both know well enough the consequences there could be for your actions."

"I would suffer only if I gave in to your demands, Lucius."

"We know very well that isn't true." Lucius paused, letting his thoughts freely enter Severus's mind. Severus neither flinched nor winced at the thoughts, no matter how horrid and frightening they were. After such thoughts had been heard, there was silence, and neither dared to speak. Severus was, however, the first to clear his throat pointedly.

"Meaningless threats won't help you."

"They are not meaningless, as well you know. Many have still been preparing for the Dark Lord's return."

"Fools, the lot of them."

"If they are fools, why do you still work under Dumbledore's thumb?"

"Because he does believe that He will return. And he is a fool for believing it."

"You are still fearful, Severus," Lucius said, his smirk growing in triumph. "And imagine how He will punish you when he discovers you refused to help in the task of creating a perfect right-hand witch."

"I doubt that the Dark Lord would ever wish to affiliate himself with her. Especially after He finds out it was all Lestrange's plan."

"Then you think wrong. You know very well that it is you that will be punished for this impertinence."

"If He ever came back."

"I know as well as everyone that He will. And when He does He will know who has been loyal and who has not."

"I do not understand how loyalty is raising a child to be more powerful than the Dark Lord. It is a useless task and one which no one wishes a part in."

"Not more powerful, Severus, simply powerful enough to be thought of with respect."

"You still hold your hopes too high. Now if this is all you had to ask of me, then I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

"I am not going to leave until you perform the spell." Severus set his jaw, attempting to stare Lucius down, but the battle was quite fruitless. He sighed, glancing at Tempest, who still was unaware of what was being discussed.

"If anyone at the Ministry is to ask me about this, I shall tell them it is you who did the spell," Severus said as he brought out his wand.

"I trust you would."

With a nod, Severus pointed his wand at Tempest and muttered a few words under his breath. It was a quick task, causing slight surprise between both members of the conscious gathering. Without another word, Lucius rose, and the _Muffliato_ spell was lifted off Tempest as she follow him. The potions master watched as they left the house, and disapparated soon after. He laughed inwardly, quite happy that finally something had managed to bring Lucius down to Lestrange's level. Severus thought himself above troubling himself with Malfoy business, but knew very well that it would be entertaining to do so in the future.


	5. Chapter 5

_How can they complain that we're all fucked up kidsWhen they keep on changing who our mother is?_

_- Modern Moonlight, The Dresden Dolls_

The day came when Draco received his own letter for Hogwarts. Tempest did not at first understand, having never quite been as concerned with the school as her adoptive brother had been. She had other things on her mind, such as coming to the conclusion she was indeed adopted; it was a discovery she made by herself, and one that no one needed to affirm for her. After all, she was much shorter than the rest of the Malfoys, her hair was auburn while theirs was all blonde, her eyes were green while everyone else had light blue, and her character was admittedly different.

Once this had passed by her, though, Tempest was quite irate at why she did not receive her own letter. She knew as well as everyone else did that she was not a Squib, nor a Muggle. So why did she not have a letter of her own? Though she was silent in her angst for a short while, she could not hide it for long. Of course, she was not a violent child at this time, not at all. In fact, she was the least violent of the Malfoy family. Now, Tempest was not a foolish child. It was quite the opposite, in fact. With her magical power came a wit and superiority of mind that was only matched by her mother's- the mother who she still was not told about, and could find no record of in any of the books in the house's library. This was not what angered her, though, for the time being.

"You needn't make such a fuss over a silly little letter," Draco said when he received his own letter, a sneer on his face. "After all, the only thing it tells us is that I'm just that much better than you."

"Hold your tongue, Draco," Lucius said, tapping the boy's head with his cane as he passed him by. "It isn't proper to gloat."

"What use is there in gloating?" Tempest said bitterly. "They'll just kick him out in the first term."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, clenching his fists.

"It just means that either you're so stupid they'll realise they've made a mistake, or your temperment'll get the better of you," she explained, her tone slightly more proud than before. "Everyone knows if there's one thing Draco Malfoy can't stand, it's not getting his way, and how many teachers there'll let you get away with whatever you want?"

"For your information, Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, father says that Severus Snape is the Potions Master there, and you know very well he's a friend of the family."

"Severus Snape?" Tempest laughed, shaking her head. "Well, your father told me that he'd rather stab a Malfoy in the back than help them out."

"She's right, Draco," Lucius said, smiling slightly. "I only told you that he's a friend of the family, I never once said that it meant you would receive special treatment." At this, Draco cast his father a rather dirty look, and then turned his head sharply back towards Tempest.

"Well, that doesn't mean that I won't get my own way."

"Yes it does, Draco."

"Told you," Tempest teased, sticking out her tongue. Although he was neither her flesh nor blood, she still enjoyed teasing him as much as a girl would ever enjoy teasing their true sibling.

"I told you not to gloat, Tempest," Lucius told her in a tone much less sharp than it was with Draco. "Anyway, you really should not make such about all this Hogwarts business. Just because you won't be going to school there, it does not mean we can't teach you ourselves."

"I'm sure that it isn't allowed," Tempest said, thinking. "I remember reading _Hogwarts, A History_ and it said that you can't practise magic until you're of age, or in school, it's against the law to do so."

"And I'm sure that as long as no one finds out, it will be fine."

"Who says _he_ wouldn't tell?" she asked, glaring at Draco who was smiling knowingly.

"He won't tell," Lucius said languidly.

"There'll be no one to stop it slipping out, father," Draco said, his smile growing bigger.

"I may not be the best of friends with Severus, but I'm sure he will have no problem finding a reason to expel you if anyone were to find out. And don't threaten, Draco, especially to a man who is more likely to win a duel."

Draco pursed his lips, thinking of all the insults he could imagine while not saying a single word of them. Tempest, however, laughed, knowing full well the distaste Lucius held for his son, and the preference he had for her. She often would not have been so cruel as to find this at all humorous, but the fact that she found Draco such an annoyance in life made it easier to do so. Lucius smirked over the copy of the Daily Prophet he was reading towards Tempest, and in return she smiled back.

Tempest was disallowed from coming to send off Draco in London, but she little cared. After all, saying goodbye was for those who would be missed, and he certainly would not be. When the two elder Malfoys returned, a separate feeling came upon them. Narcissa felt annoyance, knowing that now she was entrapped with this child for a long few months until Christmas, at which time Draco would return to them for the holiday season. Lucius, on the other hand, could barely contain himself with excitement at the idea of training the girl as he saw fit- although this excitement was hidden, as he knew how inappropriate it was to display such happiness.

She stumbled as she walked through the long hallways, not having looked in her daze. Tempest looked back, unsure what she had tripped over, until she saw a small figure crouched down by wall.

"Dobby is most sorry, mistress," the house elf said in his oddly high voice, bowing his head until his nose touched the floor. "Dobby is very, very sorry, Dobby shan't be in your way ever again!"

"I do not command you, Dobby," she said. "You serve only the Malfoys."

"Dobby serves this household, mistress."

"Then listen to the command that you won't listen to anything I say again."

"Dobby can not do that, mistress, Dobby must serve the family until-"

"The house or the family, Dobby," she interrupted firmly. "Either way, you owe me nothing."

Dobby cowered and bowed his head low again, backing away from her around a corner. Tempest watched him leave slightly despondently. She knew quite well that she did not wish to be cruel to the house elf in the same manner that Lucius was. However, what use would it be to be kind? She gained nothing from kindness, and lost nothing through severity- never cruelty, but a harsh word did no one harm. Tempest continued to walk through the house, knowing every step of the house off by heart, having seen every part of the wallpaper before, and having made a few of the burn marks on the walls herself.

When Lucius and Narcissa arrived back at their home, it seemed strange to them to have Tempest still there, as she always had been while their son was away. Narcissa was immediately disturbed by the frank way that Tempest stared at her, a curiosity about what was in store for her while Draco was gone and a slight amusement glinting in her eyes. Lucius found it all quite humorous. In fact, it had been a game that Tempest had played many times before; Narcissa was the parent that disliked her unbearably and therefore she was the one that it would be more entertaining to scare repetitively.

As dinner was served that night, the table was unusually quiet. The slight shock of having a family member missing from the room created a shock that dumbfounded them. Although they all knew it would be best for someone to speak, no one quite dared at that point. It was not until later on when they simply sat there that Tempest spoke up.

"Lucius," she began quietly, "do you think-"

"You mustn't call him that," Narcissa said briskly.

"Excuse me, Na-"

"And don't call me by my first name either. It's simply…rude."

"Of course it is rude," Lucius said in a bored tone. "Very rude and inappropriate, but the girl has no other name to call us."

"A simple mister and missus would suffice."

"I for one couldn't care less what she calls us," he continued. "I care little for what respect she shows, it will not reflect on us at any point." Narcissa opened her mouth, but without a single thing to say she pursed her lips and nodded lightly. Lucius turned his head back to Tempest, who stared at the two in a astonished manner. "Now, what was it you were saying?"

"I simply wondered whether he would have been placed in his house yet," she said in an even quieter voice than before.

"What do you care? You barely like him."

"Not at all," she said, causing Narcissa to flinch and Lucius to smile. "But I should like to know."

"Well then, yes, he will most likely have been sorted by now. Slytherin, I hope, unless the boy wants to be disowned before he's of age."

"But I heard that Albus Dumbledore was once in Gryffindor. That would not be such a bad option, would it?"

"We do not look too kindly upon most who come from Gryffindor," Lucius said. "After all, it is rare a wizard of any worth comes from that house."

"Isn't Dumbledore of any worth to us?"

"He would have been, had he chosen an appropriate manner of using his power." He paused, draining his goblet of wine, and then stopped to think.

"I do not care much for Gryffindor either," Tempest said abruptly, as if reading his mind. "I simply read about them somewhere."

"Well, it is of no matter now," Lucius admitted. "But I assure you, if you meet any of the people from that school other than Slytherin students before you are of age yourself, you will be happy enough with it."

Tempest nodded, agreeing in the manner that she had been accustomed to. After all, Lucius had always proven himself to be right. His hopes were granted as the following morning he received an owl telling him that Draco was indeed sorted into Slytherin. Tempest did not find out who sent the owl, sure enough that Draco would not have bothered with the idea, yet cared very little for who sent the information to them. After all, it was as Lucius has said: she would not meet anyone until she was of age, and so they offered little interest to her.

Lucius did not teach her the lessons he had promised her when Draco received his letter, and so Tempest spent her free time in the library, reading spell books and practising them on the books themselves. More often than not they worked, unless Narcissa or Dobby entered the library and disturbed her, in which case the book would accidentally set itself on fire. Yet within the first few months of the school year, she had already learnt half of the things expected at a third year level. Neither Lucius nor Narcissa watched this progress or knew that it had taken place. She did not care, though. She learnt the most important things in that library.

Including lessons on the most famous witches and wizards of their age. Only one caught her interest. A young boy who happened to be the same age as she and Draco. A young boy who lived.


	6. Chapter 6

_Biting keeps your words at bayTending to the sores that stayHappiness is just a gash away_

_-Bad Habit, the Dresden Dolls_

Tempest saw little point in reading any more. She had already read half of the library, and knew most of the facts that were mentioned in the second half. Nearer towards the end of the school year, Lucius finally gave into the questions that Tempest asked constantly and promised her the lessons he had mentioned. Narcissa did not complain for once, having been quite annoyed through the past months as Tempest constantly practised her spells by herself and ended up burning things or making them disappear. However much she despised the child, she did not want to have to explain why the mattresses kept vanishing.

Knowing that she was practised in most basic spells, Lucius endeavoured to teach her the higher level spells that had caused many of the mishaps in the house. Tempest did not have a wand, and had managed to practise long without one. Lucius only realised she had done so when they stepped into a now cleared dining room, his wand at the ready. At first he wavered, waiting for her to query about a wand of her own. When she did not ask, though, he regained himself quickly enough.

"You have become practised in the smaller spells," he said to her. "More than Draco will have learnt from his teachers, I expect. I am quite impressed. However, there is of course more you could learn."

"Whatever you tell me to," she replied.

"I suppose most of which I can teach you, you will have at least heard of." Tempest did not nod, knowing of course that she would, but not sure whether it was best to agree. Lucius tilted his head, wondering at first what spell might amuse the girl- the very least he needed was a bored child who could set the house on fire, though she little liked the idea herself. "_Geminio_," he said, pointing his wand at her. In a quick flash of yellow light, another version of Tempest stood next to her, staring off into space. Tempest seemed quite calm, simply looking with an air of surprise.

"I practised that on a rat I found," she said in thought. "It didn't really do much but run off."

"These copies are of no use to us," Lucius said to her. "More often than not they are simply used as a distraction. They can not listen to you, nor can they really see you. They are merely statues without a mind of their own." With a quick movement of his wrist, he muttered the word _Confringo_, causing the clone to burst into flames. Although she knew the spell well enough, it still caused Tempest to jump in surprise, her eyes wide. "Out of curiosity," he continued as he took hold of a book he planned for her to practise the spell on, "how do you perform these spells?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I say, child. How do you perform them without a wand?" Tempest looked at him, thinking, and then looked down at the floor.

"With my hand, I think."

"Your hand?"

"Yes, sir." She looked up again, waiting for Lucius to say anything else. A smirk started to grow on his face.

"Show me," he said, placing the book on the floor and stepping away from it. He watched Tempest, who stared at the book, surveying it curiously. She circled it once, and then once she had returned back to her original place, she closed her eyes, contemplating the spell. Lucius was sure enough that she had fallen asleep somehow, and was quite prepared to shake her by the shoulder.

"_Geminio_," she suddenly said firmly, stretching her hand out with the palm vertically flat. In a flash of yellow light, just as had happened before, another version of the very same book lay beside the original. Lucius stared at it for a moment, then looked back towards Tempest, who stood still and calm, as she was before.

"When did you learn to do this?"

"The spell?"

"Magic on a whole. Without a wand."

"I thought it was normal before Draco got his wand," she said nonchalantly. "I didn't have to learn." Lucius cleared his throat, shaking his head inwardly. It did him no good to ponder, and instead he would make it his business to look into the matter later. For now, he was determined to teach the lesson he had promised her.

The lesson carried on until late in the evening, by which point Tempest had almost completely become tired of the idea of magic. Lucius, however, had only just begun. He planned out every spell he could teach her, almost excited to see how far her niche for magic without a wand would take her. Lucius doubted he had ever heard of such a phenomenon before in his life. Once she had finally exclaimed aloud of her fatigue and desire to sit away from the lesson, Lucius finally gave in to the fact that it was indeed late in the evening and Narcissa's own desire to not see the house burn down was wavering under her ambition to have her husband away from the child.

Tempest sat alone for a while, having decided to return to the library out of pure routine. She had preferred if there for a while anyway. No one else really liked to trespass on her while she was there. Tempest searched the library tirelessly for a book she had not read, or one interesting enough to read again. It was often a tiring task for her whenever she searched, but more often than not she would find one that was new to her. Today was no different for her, and she took hold of a thin black book that sat wedged between two battered, yellow-paged textbooks. She had not remembered ever reading it, and thought there was no harm in taking hold of it.

Not a word lay on the pages, though.

A slight flash of surprise crossed across her mind, but it was only momentarily. As quickly as it came, it was gone, and was replaced by curiosity at the tingling in her fingers as she touched the pages. Quickly, Tempest fled to her room, her feet carrying her down the hallways more hastily than she could remember them ever doing so before. She sat at her desk, taking hold of her quill and smiling to herself. Tempest knew very well she was the only person to see this book. She knew that she was the only person who knew what to do with it.

_Is anybody in there?_ she wrote in carefully printed letters, as if neatness was required at this time. She watched painstakingly as the ink dissolved into the page. Immediately as the ink had gone, it appeared again in a different form.

_Yes,_ the ink replied to her.

_Who is it in here?_ she continued to write, a calm settling upon her as she wrote.

_You may call me Tom. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle._

_My name is Tempest._ Tempest watched for the new words to appear. There seemed to be a slight pause before the words appeared again.

_Would you happen to be Tempest Potter?_ the ink asked. Frowning, Tempest wrote again.

_I am told I am Tempest Malfoy._

_Then I am mistaken, Tempest._

_Why are you in a book?_ Tempest wrote thoughtfully.

_To travel._

_Travel where?_

_Back to Hogwarts,_ the ink wrote.

_Why do you want to go to Hogwarts?_

_That does not matter. I am not there now?_

_We're in the Malfoy Manor. I don't go to Hogwarts._

_Then how will I get there?_

Tempest thought for a moment, putting the tip of the quill to her lips. It barely came across her mind that she was pondering the fate of a book, one that she knew in all rights she should have burned upon finding, but it did not trouble her an ounce. After all, it did her no harm, and seemed so polite.

_My guardian's son goes. Perhaps you can speak to him?_

_Your guardian? Mr Malfoy?_

_Lucius Malfoy,_ she corrected.

_Perhaps I could speak to him, then?_ Nodding slightly, as if the book could see her, she closed it and clung onto the book, slowly taking her leave from her room to find Lucius. Again, she was not sure why she abided by the book's requests. It was simply paper. However, the strange power that she had felt in her fingertips almost hypnotised her into following its demands.

Narcissa winced slightly as Tempest entered the room, thinking the girl had fully gone from them for the evening, but was ignored by both the child and Lucius. She stared at the latter for a moment, before finally stepping forward and handing him the book. Lucius looked down at it briefly before looking again at Tempest, confused and slightly disgusted with the battered book.

"And what do you want me to do with it?" he asked drawlingly.

"He wants to talk to you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Hate her if you will," Lucius said while turning his head to Narcissa, "but she does create some excitement, if nothing else." He turned his head back to Tempest. "What do you mean?"

"The boy in the book," she replied. "Tom. He asked to speak to you."

"I shall humour you, then. How do I speak to _Tom?"_

"Write in the book." Sighing with a lighter tone that hinted humour rather than tiredness, he took hold of a quill and waved a hand.

"You may leave," he said before starting to write. Although Tempest was curious to see what Tom would write, she knew that it was a better idea not to cross him when he dismissed her. She silently wandered off again back to her room, forgetting the events almost instantly. The memory served no importance to her, and so she decided it best to ignore.


	7. Chapter 7

_Sad, but true—the truth can turn your smile to a what's the use, dear Jenny?  
__Anyway, the world is prettyupside-down...  
__Dear Jenny, The Dresden Dolls_

Tempest received no news of what Tom had said to Lucius, but did not ask at all. She had all but forgotten it. Instead she was left to routine that had usually been kept until early July, when Narcissa excitedly ordered Dobby to prepare the house for Draco's return. It was hardly fair in Tempest's opinion that she should order the house elf to do the work she so solely needed doing. After all, no one but her wished for the boy's return. Life had been far too peaceful without him.

In those last few weeks before the end of the school year, Lucius took slightly more pleasure than usual teaching Tempest. He had reverted to more simple spells that would be of no use to her, but would nonetheless occupy her to learn. It was best for him to sit and watch her practise the spell on varying objects he gave her rather than going into any more detail than was needed. All this time he pondered, not quite watching her, but instead his mind elsewhere. More often enough, they were with Tom.

He was the only one in the household that knew what secrets the diary held, other than the person that seemed to respond to whoever wrote to it. Yet Tempest did not make a fuss of this fact, so he assumed he was the only one with any control over the situation. Lucius had long decided how to handle the situation. It was Hogwarts that the book wanted, and Hogwarts was where it would go. After all, he had never been one to disappoint his superiors. Indeed, this book was his superior once the facts had been explained to him. If his wife could listen to his thoughts, what nonsense she would hear, and what a predicament he would find himself in. Anyone would have thought him mad had they found out the truth.

Knowing this, he expected it was only a matter of time before Tempest would find out what was planned. She knew many of the secrets of the house, which no longer could be called secrets after all, and this was one that certainly could not be kept for very long. Yet the secret remained much longer than he had expected, even if the day finally did come when she stole away the diary in a moment of fleeting curiosity. Lucius had seen her take it, although he was sure she did not know this. He did not say anything against it, though, certain that the mood would only be sour if he decided to say anything.

When she had returned to her room with the diary hidden in the inside of her thin fleece, Tempest was quite excited to speak again to Tom. Her curiosity had created the excitement, which in turn created a rapid manner with which she wrote.

_Did Lucius speak with you?_ she wrote quickly, her careful writing from beforehand disappearing into a more childish scrawl. The ink faded as it had before and new words faded onto the blank page.

_Yes._

_And he'll take you to Hogwarts, like you wanted?_

_Arrangements have been made,_ Tom replied.

_I wanted to know what it is you want to do when you are at Hogwarts, Tom,_ she wrote down slightly more carefully, but her hand still shaking.

_That is neither here nor there_.

_I'm terribly good at keeping secrets, I shan't tell a soul._

_I can not trust your loyalty,_ Tom replied after a short moment.

_Why would I betray you? I haven't got anyone to tell._

After another pause, as if Tom were thinking there in his book, words started to appear again.

_I once went to school at Hogwarts, and I plan to return there._

_And Lucius will help you there?_

_As I have said, arrangements have been made._

_What will you do there? Why do you wish to go back?_

_It is a simple task that must be carried out. I am the only person who can do it._

_And what do you have planned?_

Taking its usual dramatic pause, the book refused to say anything for a moment. In fact, the moment was quite longer than expected. She leant back in her chair, thinking that Tom had done with talking to her. The words formed again, catching her attention before she could close the book at all.

_Perhaps you have heard tell of the Chamber of Secrets?_

_Briefly, rumours have been mentioned in thin textbook_, Tempest wrote in return.

_What of the Basilisk?_

_Of course I have heard of it. It kills whoever looks into its eyes._

_That is my duty at Hogwarts this year._

Tempest nodded slowly to herself, taking in the words. How could that be a duty at all? It was a creature. Besides, even if the book was talking about what Tempest thought he was talking about, it was certainly impossible. The Basilisk was supposed be an extremely large snake. No one can control a snake. Everyone would see it. Perhaps that was his plan.

_Who do you plan to see it?_ she wrote.

_You are a very clever girl. I didn't expect you to guess so quickly._

_You didn't answer my question. Who do you want to see the Basilisk?_

_If you have heard of Hogwarts, if you have heard anything of our world at all, then you most certainly have heard of Harry Potter._

_I have heard of the Boy Who Lived,_ Tempest corrected him.

_Whatever you call him._

_Why would you wish him dead?_ Tempest refused to acknowledge the fact that death upon any person was enough reason for her to burn the book.

_There have been certain events in my life that have been made worse by his presence. I am merely righting the wrongs he has done._

_He is only my age, I have read_.

_And rather too troublesome._

_What right have you to decide that?_

_No right, I suppose. I have the power to decide it, though._

With haste, Tempest closed the book, sick of hearing what it had to say. In a few simple sentences, she had grown to despise Tom, knowing him to be such a horrid boy that she was certain Lucius had made a mistake in listening to a word he had to say. Tempest took the book again downstairs, placing it on the table she had found it on, then running back to her room.

She tried not to think of what Tom had to say. Yet could she simply sit there and allow this boy to die? She did not know him, nor did she particularly care for him much. Why should she? He was of no importance, he was simply a name in a textbook. Still, she knew that this name in a textbook was going to die. There was a feeling of both indifference and guilt at this knowledge. Indifference because she didn't know him. Guilt because his death might matter. Guilt because things might go wrong. Anyone in Hogwarts could die. Of course, she wouldn't mind so much if it were Draco, but it would haunt her forever if someone that mattered died.

And there was nothing she could do.

Sitting cross legged on the beg, Tempest continued to ponder, and then shook her head. While there was nothing for her to do, there was still someone in the household who could help her. Lucius was of no help at all, obviously, as he seemed to wish to help Tom more than he would want to help her. His side was taken. Narcissa would most likely not wish to help, even if Draco were in trouble- she detested Tempest enough to take that risk, in Tempest's opinion. However, there was another source of magic that could help her.

"Dobby," Tempest called, and with a cracking sound the house elf appeared in her room, covered in dust. He must have been in the attic again, Tempest thought to herself. Dobby bowed to her, his large eyes blinking in the bright candle light.

"You called, mistress," Dobby said shakily, still staring down at the floor. Tempest crawled to the end of the bed until she sat in front of him.

"Don't look down at the floor like that, I didn't ask for you to do so." Once Dobby looked up at her again, she continued. "You've heard of Harry Potter, haven't you?"

"Indeed, miss, he is famous among we house elves, as well as among the wizarding world."

"Then supposedly I've missed out on something," she said to herself before returning her attention to the house elf. "You are able to leave this house, if I ask it, aren't you?"

"If you wish it, miss," he said in a small voice.

"I do wish it. You say you know Harry Potter? Then I wish you to find out where he lives."

"That may take some time, miss."

"Let it take as long as it takes. I do not want to know myself where he lives. I just want you to know. I want you to stop him from going to Hogwarts next year."

"Yes, miss," Dobby said, bowing again, although he sounded doubtful. He paused, waiting to be dismissed. Tempest knew this, although did not wish to let him leave at this moment.

"You're confused?"

"It isn't in Dobby's place to say, miss."

"But if I ask you a question, don't you have to answer it?"

"Yes, Dobby is slightly confused."

"I was told something is going to happen to him in Hogwarts this year," she explained briefly. "A Basilisk, in the school."

"Should I warn Master Draco?"

"No," I said quickly. "I do not wish him to know. In fact, I specifically forbid you from uttering a word of this order to anyone in the household."

"As you wish, miss," he said. Tempest then dismissed the house elf, who left the room backwards, his nose dragging against the floor ever so slightly. Were it not so depressing how he was devoted to the family without a wish of it, she would have laughed at the sight. Tempest sighed, lying back down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was nothing else she could do to help the Boy Who Lived, and she knew that she could sleep in peace now without any guilt upon her head.

She wondered slightly how Lucius planned to send Tom to Hogwarts. Perhaps he would give the book to Draco to somehow get to Harry. She asked herself whether they were friends. Whether they even knew each other existed. Maybe they were simply acquaintances? This topic did not interest her for long, though, and she soon returned to thinking about Tom's travels to Hogwarts. What would happen when he discovered Harry would not be going to school? How would Dobby ever make sure this would happen?

Tired of thinking, Tempest drifted into a peaceful sleep that was undisturbed by dreams or thoughts. Waking brought nothing but these thoughts, though, which did not at all help her. Although, these thoughts were ignored ever so quickly as she sat down at the dining table that morning, Lucius reading _The Daily Prophet_ as usual, and Narcissa unusually cheerful. When Tempest at last asked why she was so happy, causing Narcissa to hush the girl rudely, Lucius placed the paper down again on the table.

"Draco will be returning from Hogwarts next week," he explained.

"Then why is she smiling?" Tempest asked. Lucius smiled in his own manner, but Narcissa uttered a noise of some form of disgust.

"You should not be so impertinent while under this roof."

"I see nothing impertinent about it, the boy doesn't seem to like her much, and she doesn't seem to like him," Lucius said, picking up _The Daily Prophet_ again.

"And you should not be letting her get away with this attitude," she said, almost snarling at her husband. "If you let it go too far I shouldn't be surprised if our Draco ends up without an arm."

"Let us hope it would be his left arm, I don't think I could much stand if he lost his wand arm."

"You barely care about your own son!" Narcissa cried out, on the brink of weeping.

"I do care, but I'd rather I did not show affection on my sleeve," he replied. "You'd do best not to let them get to you either." Lucius looked up briefly from his paper, a slightly knowing look in his eyes, then returned to it. Narcissa looked painful for a moment, then slouched in her seat, sipping her tea.

"Are you giving Tom to Draco?" Tempest asked all of a sudden, the question coming to her mind.

"Of course not."

"What is she on about now?" Narcissa asked.

"Private matters."

"You have private matters with an eleven year old girl?"

"It does not matter with whom your private matters are, simply what you talk about. Which does remind me," he added, turning his head to Tempest. "I have not been able to teach you any of the potions work required of you."

"Are we starting that today?"

"Unfortunately I never was all too ecstatic about Potions. I have asked someone to teach you instead."

"You didn't!" Narcissa said, putting her cup heavily back onto its saucer.

"Do we know of anyone else who is as much a dab hand at Potions as Severus?"

"Severus Snape, you mean?" Tempest asked.

"I would have thought you'd forgotten him by now, you were very young when you last saw him."

"I had hoped it would be my last time, he did not seem to like me very much."

"He doesn't like anyone," Lucius said. "I doubt you are very different at all."

"Then why would he teach me?"

"Because I told him to."

"I didn't think he liked you either, Lucius," Narcissa commented.

"He doesn't, but he was more than willing to do it. Perhaps he simply enjoys torturing small children?"

"You are sending me to someone who will torture me?"

"More within your mind than anything else- again, that does remind me he will have to teach you lessons apart from Potions. I doubt you'll need Occlumency any time in the future, so I think he will teach you at a later date rather than before you have learnt any basics."

"I know many potions," Tempest said indignantly. "Maybe if you allowed me near any of the cauldrons, then I-"

"Those cauldrons are very expensive," Lucius interrupted. "All I need is a young girl practising in them."

"You never bring them out, how am I to know they are valuable?"

"I am keeping them for the Minister," Lucius sighed. "Now do not fret, you will not have to be taught anything until the summer, after Draco has returned. Be glad I do not force you to be in the same household as him every hour of every day for six weeks."

Tempest nodded, admittedly grateful for this. She was not, however, at all grateful that she would have to spend any time with that detestable Severus. He was ever such an annoying man when she had last seen him. He barely spoke to her, and did not seem to have wished for either hers or Lucius' presence all those years ago. Perhaps it would be best to make his life hell while she was there? Or be the perfect image of an angel or saint? Either way, she was sure enough that her tricks would not work. Whether she was good or bad, summer was bound to be more than awful.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hip Hip Hooray for me, you talk to me, but would you kill me in my sleep  
__Lay still like the dead  
From the razor to the rosary  
-It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish, My Chemical Romance_

In all honest, Tempest could not care less that Draco had returned. She knew that she would not have to speak to him very often, and Draco was so busy in complaining about Hogwarts that he did not bother to annoy me. I had heard him go on about how amazing he was at lessons, and how the teachers either adored him or paid no attention to him, but now finally he caught my interest in the slightest. He spoke continuously about how Gryffindor had stolen the House Cup from Slytherin at the very last minute.

"All because of that Potter and his lot," Draco said frustratedly, jumping heavily into a chair and folding his arms.

"Potter?" I asked curiously. "You mean Harry Potter."

"Of course I mean Harry Potter, how common a name's Potter?"

"Ignore her," Narcissa said, lightly sitting next to her son and taking him in a motherly embrace. "What on Earth could he have done?"

"That fool Dumbledore gave him and that blasted Weasley- and that girl, Granger, the horrible little Mudblood-"

"We don't accept that sort of language," Lucius said lightly, although it was quite obvious that he did not mean it in the slightest.

"Dumbledore gave them points for some silly little thing they were doing down in the dungeons. Rumours were flying around they were looking for the Philosopher's Stone, though I'm sure I would have heard about it much earlier in the year if it were true."

"Because you, of course, know everything," Tempest laughed. Draco shot her a dirty glance, looking her up and down.

"Obviously more than you," he sneered. "Enough to actually get into Hogwarts."

"No boasting, Draco," Lucius tutted, hitting the boy across the head with a rolled up _Daily Prophet_ he happened to be carrying.

"But it isn't at all fair that they should get so many points for something so small. And that Longbottom boy! Neville or something. He didn't even do anything and the headmaster gave him points for it. He was just desperate to let Gryffindor win."

"Then be glad of a moral victory," Lucius said. "There's no use in simple House Cups if you can't hold yourself above everyone, knowing that you deserved it, rather than because you had a trophy."

"We deserved the trophy, though!"

"As I said, what good's a trophy when you don't think you wanted for any reason other than the fact you possessed it?" Narcissa frowned at her husband, annoyed that he should so openly scold their son in such a manner. Tempest simply smiled.

As Draco continued blathering on about two boys who he was quite proud to have control over, Tempest and Lucius grew bored, and turned to each other, walking to the other side of the room, and started a conversation of their own interest. At least, of interest to Tempest, for it was her that began to speak first, her curiosity about Harry Potter having finally gotten the better of her.

"Dobby tells me that he is well known throughout our world," she said after she asked about him. "Yet I know nothing."

"I did not think it would interest you."

"But it does. After all, he was supposed to have been very important in history."

"Yes, and rather important in present, if I'm told correctly."

"How so?"

"Why would you wish to know that?" Lucius asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Pure interest, nothing more." Lucius nodded, pondering.

"He defeated a wizard thought to be undefeatable," he said simply. "I suppose that reason enough to be important in the presence."

"But why?"

"Perhaps he did not truly defeat the wizard."

"Then he should not be famous," Tempest stated.

"Ah, but he was strong enough to at least make us think he defeated the wizard. If he doesn't deserve to be famous for that, then he deserves to be famous for tricking us all like that."

"You have an opinion?" she asked pointedly.

"Well, I like most don't think that…the wizard is fully gone."

"Who's the wizard?"

"I shan't tell you his name."

"You're trying to spite me!" she said sullenly, frowning.

"Not at all. If you ask anyone, they won't tell you his name."

"It's cursed?"

"I wouldn't say cursed. No one likes the name much, that's all. We were taught that we were not worthy to say it."

"We?"

"Well, no one was worthy of saying the name. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was far too powerful to be referred to by his name, it did not befit his ranking."

"That's awfully vain." Lucius was rather stuck between laughter and scolding the girl for what she had said.

"Either way, it is the way things work."

"He's only my age, isn't he?" Tempest asked. "Harry Potter, that is. He can't have been too old when it happened then."

"One if I remember correctly."

With that, the conversation was finished. Tempest could scarcely believe it. One? Against seemingly one of the most powerful wizards ever? It seemed impossible. Only a child, most likely unable to speak or walk at the time. Tempest's fascination was entirely peaked, now that she knew just about the whole story. After gaining this knowledge, she knew that she must concentrate entirely on her Potions studies. She read many of the books in the library that she could find about different potions, famous uses, anything that was remotely related to Potions at all. She supposed the best way to make sure she survived a day with Severus Snape was to not be too difficult.

"A day?" Lucius chuckled when Tempest described her theory. "Of course, simply a day."

Thus came the knowledge to Tempest that it was not a day she would spend learning her lessons. Not even a day at a time. Simply a week. She protested fiercely, but it was to no avail. Lucius was rather determined in the idea that Tempest would spend the week in the stranger's house. It was better, he felt, to have the lessons over and done with for the year, rather than drawing it out over long periods of time. He also felt that his house would not be able to stand a few weeks worth of lessons as well as Tempest and Draco's small fights.

He did, however, consent to take her there personally. Tempest remembered the last journey she had taken to the Potions Master's home, and remembered the awkward nature of it. Perhaps not as awkward as it was ever so slightly vile. Lucius certainly did not hide the fact that the week would be unpleasant. In fact, he made the largest fuss he had ever made in his life over that fact, almost gloating to the child. As they walked toward Severus Snape's home, Tempest glared at Lucius darkly, sure that he was tormenting her purposefully.

"Think of it as Draco's farewell as well, then," Lucius said when she protested.

"He doesn't wish me any goodbyes! Why give me any on his behalf?"

"It gives me plenty enough reason to laugh," he replied. "I rarely have such occasion; you disallow yourself any embarrassing situations."

"Because you would laugh at me."

"Then I've obviously renewed that lesson."

Tempest stared down at the floor, thinking bitter thoughts, almost hoping to conjure lightening out of nowhere, but before the lightening had a chance to summon itself, Lucius tapped upon the door with his cane, as he had before. Once again, it did not take very long for a tall figure to appear at the door, staring down at the two on his doorstep. Determined not to express the same mannerism as she did when she was a much younger girl. So instead of staring at the floor, she stared at the owner of the house, who arched an eyebrow. Tempest shivered slightly, her mind all of a sudden a haze.

"As I recall she did not have such a insolence about her."

"Now, Severus, do you have anything better to do than look into little girl's minds?

"And I thought I'd gone undetected," Severus replied nonchalantly. "I suppose you'll want to come in now, then?"

"What hospitality," Lucius said lightly. They entered the house, Severus almost disgusted. Tempest had recovered her thoughts again, but felt almost dizzy. She guessed quite easily that he'd done that to her. Perhaps it was the Occlumency that Lucius talked about, she said to herself. She had read of it somewhere in their library, but hadn't looked into it much beyond the name.

"I don't expect she'll get in the way?" Severus said after offering a seat to the visitors, though it was plain enough by his features that he dreaded the thought.

"That's none of my concern after I leave," Lucius replied.

"You'd prefer me to find out myself?"

"But I'm not-" Tempest began, but Lucius' cane tapped her bluntly on the leg.

"Do not speak unless spoken to," he snapped. How many times he had taught her that lesson in their household.

"Not only do you try to make me teach this child, but you expect me to do so when she obviously can not hold her tongue."

"She does so well enough."

Tempest thought to speak, but held her tongue quite well, instead thinking the bitter thoughts she wished to express. Already she had decided to detest Severus Snape, as well as deciding to renew a long lost hatred for Lucius. Both spoke as if she were not there, and instead as if she were a pest that were not worth their glance. Of course, Narcissa had never taken a liking to her, and Lucius had not exactly treated her as if she were a crowning glory either, but she had gotten by well enough. Tempest simply did not like the fact that Severus Snape followed by this ideal as well.

"I must go," Lucius said all of a sudden. "Narcissa did not wish me here more than was necessary."

"You now follow your wife's ruling?" Severus commented with a sneer.

"Just because you have no one to warm your bed, does not mean that no one else is in want of their wife." Severus scowled all of a sudden, and Lucius laughed. "Exactly. I shall return in a week- no less, I shouldn't think that my beloved would be all too happy about it."

So with that, Tempest found herself still clutching her trunk, sitting on the slightly patchy couch in Severus Snape's parlour. While he was not looking, she wrinkled her nose slightly. After all, she was used to the splendour of the Malfoy Manor- although it was no longer a splendour rather than simply the life she had grown accustomed to. It did not do to be suddenly thrust into this little house fit for a house elf rather than a professor.

"I can not help if it is not to your tastes," Severus said as he entered the room again. Tempest looked up, alarmed.

"Excuse me?"

"Your thoughts," he said, tapping his temple to indicate, "are as much mine as yours."

"How-"

"I've been warned not to tell you," Snape interrupted, with a derisive smile. "Lucius tells me you learn well enough by yourself- Merlin knows why he sent you to me, then- so I should think that by next year, if I tell you, you might have some idea at least how to stop me."

"It isn't fair you should be able to read my mind without me reading yours," she argued. "Potions isn't any use, teach me that mind reading stuff."

"Occlumency," he drawled in return. "And you may be surprised at how useful potions may be."

"What use is it to me? If I were going to be attacked, I'd rather be able to read the mind of the person instead of having to whip out a cauldron and pause the fight for a month or so." Tempest swore she saw Severus's lip twitch slightly in the smallest smile.

"Either way, I have been hired to teach you Potions. Nothing else." Tempest paused, and then smiled in a demure manner.

"How about another time?"

"If you haven't already died by the time you turn fourteen," he said. "I doubt you will- most likely I'll have killed you by then."

"Lucius wouldn't like that."

"Of course," he replied, although he tapped his temples again before leaving the room.


	9. Chapter 9

_You know the games I play and the words I say when I want my own way  
__You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell and I say I can't stay  
__- Opheliac, Emilie Autumn_

Tempest did not speak a word as Lucius collected her. She did not speak either before or after they apparated. She did not even speak the rest of that day until the evening. Instead, she carried a rather bitter expression, her lips pursed and her eyes staring. Draco laughed riotously at her, having known where she had been for a week of the summer holidays.

"Must be absolutely terrible at simple Potions," he taunted the first night she returned. "A whole week with Professor Snape. I think I would have killed myself to spare the shame."

"From what I've heard he gives you with no special treatment," Lucius said nonchalantly. "Now, I assume nothing that simple would sway your thoughts towards your Head of House, Draco."

"I should think he gave up quickly enough on you," Draco continued, although he gave a rather filthy look to his father. "I certainly would have."

"For your information," she said quietly and calmly, the first words she had said all day, "he thinks I'm progressing well."

"As if," he replied. "He never compliments people."

"He didn't have to."

"So you're imagining it all? I should have known!"

"But if he didn't think I was doing well, he would not have allowed me to do the potions I did do."

"Yeah, of course," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Like?" Lucius looked up with the slightest interest, causing Tempest to shuffle her feet in an embarrassed manner.

"Well…there wasn't much time to do certain potions, but he thought he'd test me out with Felix Felicis, after he saw how I did at the Amortentia."

"Amortentia?" Lucius asked curiously. "Why in the name of Merlin would he make you do that?"

"For fun?" Tempest suggested. "I got to keep a vial of it," she added, pulling a small bottle out of her cloak pocket.

"Severus never does things just for fun," Lucius muttered. "You must have done something different."

"But she's pathetic at potions!" Draco cried out.

"Now, Draco, you've never seen her try anything of the sort. Don't start making assumptions." He put a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "It is extremely rare he sees talent so early on. He would not have otherwise given you N.E.W.T potions."

"N.E.W.T's?" Tempest asked, her eyes wide. "I didn't think they would be that hard."

"You've been cursing your elders again, haven't you?" Lucius said, rolling his eyes. "After what you managed to do to my wife, I thought you had learnt your lesson."

"It was only a little charm! Anyway, I'm sure she was having as much fun singing as we were having watching her." Tempest paused thoughtfully. "But I didn't do anything to Severus."

"First name terms?" Draco spat, irate. "What makes you so special?"

"The ability to excel in Potions," Tempest retorted. "He does not deserve the rank Professor, his teaching is probably the most incompetent I have ever seen. All he did was speak in riddles and shout at me."

"Apart from the riddles, that's all father does."

"Draco," Lucius said firmly, but his attention again turned to Tempest. "You obviously must have done something right. If I were you, I would keep an open mind when it comes to Potions."

"Why should I bother? It's a horrid subject."

"Nevertheless, it is one you will excel in if you are careful."

"B-but-" Draco stuttered, dumbfounded. "But she's stupid!"

"If I'm so stupid, then how come I'm doing better than you without even going to school?"

"You didn't even get into school!" Draco turned to Lucius, scowling. "Father, you must put this right! She doesn't even go to school, she barely even gets tutored! She must be cheating, or something like that!"

"Jealousy gets you nowhere, Draco."

"Jealousy?" Draco replied, his pale cheeks going slightly pink. "How can I be jealous of that little brat?!"

Tempest growled and pointed a finger almost accusingly at Draco. He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised, but it was Lucius who was entirely shocked. A moment after Tempest had pointed at Draco, his skin turned a strange shade of green. Tempest giggled to herself, entertained by her own spell.

"You look plenty jealous enough," she taunted, still laughing. Draco frowned in confusion, but upon looking down at himself, he saw the strange green tinge. His confusion became rage, and his fists clenched.

"Filthy little cretin!" he screamed, launching himself at the girl.

The two twelve year old children grappled on the floor, clutching each others throats and scratching each others faces at different intervals. This continued for quite a while, simply fighting. Lucius watched, torn between entertainment, annoyance and a desire to tear them apart and scold both of them. He allowed himself to watch and be entertained, having slightly missed the fights that broke out between the two. Narcissa entered the room, having heard the noise of the argument from the other room.

"Lucius!" she cried, shaking him by the shoulder. "Stop them, now!"

"My dear, even if I wanted to, I doubt that I could. Or, at least, I would not win. If I tear them apart, they both will complain about not being able to finish the fight. If I don't tear them apart, then Draco will complain about having lost again."

The prisoners of Azkaban found that one night could not be distinguished from another. Thinking about it, they knew that the day could not be distinguished from night either. It was always dark. There were minimal candles lit, but most of the time they were blown out whenever a Dementor would go by. They were all so out of it that they didn't really know how the candles were lit again.

Much of the sound in the building was composed of screaming. Prisoners often had nightmares, and some still experienced them while awake. It was the sort of life they led, if a life you could call it. This prison was where Bellatrix was situated now, eleven years after giving Tempest to the Malfoys. To say the least, the prison had not agreed with her. Her once beautiful and youthful looks had withered away until she looked more like a skeleton than a human. Of course, a very pretty skeleton, but she could barely be called beautiful any more. She was not the only one who had been withered by Azkaban.

Sirius Black was situated in the cell across from hers, causing both immense annoyance from the moment they were forced into the prison. Once a very handsome man, he now resembled a starved creature. Yet he still retained a look of sanity about him, caused by two factors: firstly, that he had always been better in mind than his cousin, and secondly that he was able to escape the Dementor's torture whenever they came down the hallway by turning into a dog. It was one of the most enjoyable activities he could think of, as it often annoyed Bellatrix even more when she came round from a depression-induced coma.

"You're more dog than man," Bellatrix hissed through the bars as he turned into a dog, simply to rest. The black, shaggy form of the dog lay its head in its paws, staring up with tired eyes. "You certainly pretend plenty enough. Can't even bear to take a little pain."

The dog barked, though it sounded more like laughter than anything else.

"Coward! Turn back and take it like a man."

After a pause, the dog sat up and in moments, there sat the man Sirius again.

"Just like you do?" he asked roughly.

"That's completely different," she replied, her voice suddenly quieter. She pulled her knees up below her chin and rocked slightly. "At least I don't find the easy way out."

"Don't try and kid yourself, you would if you could. Just because you haven't got the talent."

"I have plenty enough talent," she sniffed, her nails digging into her arms as they crossed around her legs. "But when I finally get out of here, I won't be rewarded for cowardice."

Sirius Black looked down at the floor, shaking his head pityingly.

"No one is waiting for you out there. No one wants you."

"Because of course, many are waiting for Sirius Black, aren't they."

"That's not what I said," he snapped. "There is no Dark Lord, there's no one."

Bellatrix cackled, her usual laugh gone now, instead replaced with an indication to insanity. For reasons she herself was not sure of, she had not told Sirius about young Tempest. Sometimes it was the only shred of hope that kept her sane. Everyone in the prison had something, if they hadn't already gone mad. Some still had the hope of the Dark Lord. Some that were falsely imprisoned had the hope of being discovered. Even Sirius had the hope of one day finding Peter Pettigrew. He often spoke about it in his sleep.

"At least I don't have delusions of grandeur," he replied when she stated the fact spitefully. "I actually shouldn't be in here, unlike you. I'm going to get out."

"Now who's delusional?" Bellatrix gathered a small amount of energy to drag herself to the bars of her cell, and gripped them tightly as she spoke to her cousin. "They aren't delusions."

"Of course," Sirius said tiredly, leaning his head against the nearest wall. Even the smallest of conversations rendered most prisoners weary. "I'm not the only one who'd say it. Your precious Lord would say it too."

"Don't say that!" she said with a hiss. "You haven't a clue!"

"Plenty enough to know you've gone mad."

"I haven't!" she cried out, though her voice so weak it was hoarse, and a croak rather than a passionate cry.

"Of course," Sirius repeated, close to fainting from exhaustion. Bellatrix shook with anger, gripping the bars even tighter.

"You'd believe me if I told you!" she said, slightly more earnest. "You would, I know it."

"Of-"

"Don't say that," Bellatrix interrupted irritably. Sirius shook his head in a lazy, pitying manner.

"Fine," he said slowly. "Prove it."

Bellatrix shifted uncomfortable, her anger leaving her, replaced by doubt. She argued with herself, attempting to decide whether it was best to ignore her cousin's request or prove to him that she would be free. She finally decided, having come to the conclusion that he could never get to her and would never be free. Bellatrix smiled, although it was more like a cat prepared to pounce rather than a humane smile.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already," she purred. "All those years ago."

"If you're going to speak in riddles, I'm going to fall asleep," Sirius warned.

"Well, I'm sure you remember your little godson well enough," Bellatrix continued, a glint in her eyes. Sirius sighed, thinking her mad. It took a simple moment for him to remember to whom she was referring to as his godson. His eyes flew open, filled with hatred. It took him a minute more to realise what she had meant by it. With a quick movement- at least, quicker than most prisoners in his condition- he gripped the bars, his anger and hatred amounting in that one glare.

"What have you done?" he hissed through the bars. "Bellatrix, what have you done with Tempest?"

"Nothing you wouldn't have done," she replied, a satisfactory smile on her lips as she leant back against the wall, staring Sirius down.

"Don't make me ask again, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what? Kill me? Torture me? Nothing worse than this place has already done," she said, laughing. "You can't even get over here."

"What-did-you-do-to-her?" Sirius repeated, elaborating every word.

"Saved her," Bellatrix replied contentedly. "She's safe."

"As if! You have about as much maternal instinct as- as- my mother!"

"Hitting below the belt, aren't we?" she said sarcastically. "I happen to think your mother was rather pleasant."

"You would," he growled. "Where is she then?"

"With family," Bellatrix said. "Of course, not that Muggle family the boy was sent to. A nice, proper family."

"One of your lot," Sirius guessed, his face turning whiter than usual.

"Yeah, of course. I'm not letting her be raised by Muggles. It would be a…waste."

"Waste?"

"Surely you must have guessed, dear cousin." Bellatrix chuckled. "She's going to grow up ever so well. She's going to be the one to get me out of here."

"Now you're completely mad." Sirius shook his head. "You're expecting a kid to save you? You've been here years, she wouldn't even know you."

"You saw how powerful the Potters were, even you can't deny that. She'll be able to do it. And as for knowing me…I've taken care of it."

Sirius paused, and a bark of laughter emitted from his throat.

"No, I was right," he said, turning over to his side to sleep. "You're mad."

With that, he drifted to a restless sleep. Not that any night wasn't restless. Bellatrix watched him for a bit, imagining all the curses she knew, wishing she could perform magic just once. She slipped into sleep not long afterwards, her dreams the same as they always had been; nightmares.


	10. Chapter 10

_I picked up the pieces of my broken ego  
I have finally made my peace as far as you and me go  
-Good Day, The Dresden Dolls_

Although her thoughts still were on the subject of Hogwarts when Draco returned to the school, Tempest did not ask Dobby whether or not her request for him to make sure Harry Potter did not to go to Hogwarts was fulfilled. Her suspicions, though, were that it was not. The house elf avoided her at all costs, only in her presence when Lucius summoned him while in the same room. Even then, he was quick to leave.

For some time, Tempest had felt it rude to ask Dobby whether Harry Potter had gone back to Hogwarts. It was none of her business in the first place. However, she decided that it did not matter whether she was rude or not, as long as she asked politely. At least, as politely as she could manage. It was easy enough to corner the house elf, and even easier to find him. He was shoving his head into an oven for some reason or another, as he usually did. Tempest hurriedly held him by the scruff of his pillow case clothing and pulled him out.

"What are you doing?" she asked irritably. The house elf looked up at her with wide, watery eyes.

"Dobby turned the master's socks blue, mistress," Dobby replied, blinking rapidly. "Dobby had to punish himself."

"But you can just turn the socks white again," Tempest said.

"Dobby did, mistress, but it was foolish of Dobby to do it at all."

"More foolish to try and burn your head off," she pointed out. Dobby shuffled his bony feet and looked down at the floor. As told by Lucius, he was silent until asked a question or demanded a task. "You remember I asked you about that Harry Potter boy?" Dobby looked up quickly, trembling.

"Yes, miss."

"And?" she said pointedly. Dobby seemed to shudder more at this.

"Dobby did his best, miss," he said tearfully. "Dobby stopped Harry Potter's letters from his friends, and Dobby even went to his house. Even when Harry Potter went to the train, Dobby stopped the barrier. But Harry Potter is very clever, miss, and found his way to Hogwarts."

Tempest blinked, slightly shocked. She had never seen the house elf in such a state before. Dobby, however, misinterpreted her shock, and wailed a single cry of fear and regret.

"Dobby will punish himself, mistress!" he said through choked tears.

"Don't be so silly," Tempest muttered, thinking. "Well, there must be something you can do."

"Whatever you ask, miss."

"I don't know what to ask," she said mournfully. "Just…can you just try your best? Improvise or something? I'm giving you permission to do whatever, Dobby, just so long as it works."

"Yes, miss," Dobby said, bowing his head, his eyes slightly more dry than before. There was more awe in them than anything else, and also slight curiosity. Seeing this, Tempest tilted her head slightly, looking at the elf.

"You want to ask me something?" she asked, causing Dobby to jump as if in shock. He nodded his head, but only after looking about the room first. "Go on then."

"Dobby shan't be rude, miss, he won't!"

"If you don't want to be rude, tell me what it is you want to ask." Dobby was still silent, looking down at the floor. "Dobby, I order you to tell me what it is you want to ask."

"Dobby only wishes to know, mistress, why it is she asks Dobby to help Harry Potter," he said hurriedly, stumbling over his words. Tempest paused, staring at him.

"Would you rather I didn't?" she asked simply, before turning on her heel and leaving the room. Dobby watched as she left, satisfied enough with the reply.

----------------

"I'd probably learn better if you'd stop losing it with me," a bitter thirteen year old Tempest said to a rather tired looking and irritated Severus Snape.

"I am not losing it," he said tiredly, his thumb and finger rubbing his temples in a strenuous manner. "I am simply finding it impossible that you can be so thick-headed."

"Maybe I wouldn't be if you would keep your part of the bargain!"

"You are only thirteen, and I have yet to have the chance to murder you myself."

"I only have a week! One week! And Lucius is taking me back in two days, as you very well know."

"Yes, and that time could not come a moment sooner, could it?" he snapped. "Now look what you've done! How many times must I remind you to not use crab grass with newt gill?"

"And how many times have I told you that it's in-the-book?" she replied through gritted teeth. Severus slammed his hand down on the table.

"Who is teaching you, might I ask? Me or the textbook?"

"You're the one who gave me the blood book," she muttered.

"And I'm also the one who's telling you not to use crab grass with newt gill," he seethed. With a quick movement of his wand, the content of her cauldron disappeared. "Start again." Tempest bit her tongue, and swiftly collected the ingredients requested in the book. She paused at the cabinet, and then swallowed.

"So do I use crab grass or do I use newt gill?"

"For the last time," Severus Snape said quietly, "neither." Shrugging, Tempest took hold of the beakers and arrived back at her cauldron where Severus stood, his teeth gritted.

"They didn't give you the job again, did they?" Tempest said with a smile.

"No," Severus replied reluctantly after a pregnant pause.

"Then stop taking it out on me."

"My aggravation at that fact does not mean I am any more annoyed with you than normal. I am reacting in the same way anyone would if they were forced to teach you."

"You're not being forced," she pointed out. "Lucius isn't even paying you."

"He has his ways of making sure I'm forced to abide."

"By doing what? Death threats? Blackmailing? Homosexuality revelation thre-"

"You are beyond belief," Severus spat. "And no, it isn't any of them."

_Probably a threat to wash that hair or something,_ Tempest thought privately.

"I heard that," Severus said.

"That's what you promised me!" Tempest cried out. "You said when I turn fourteen and haven't died, you'll teach me how to do that stuff."

"What 'stuff'?"

"Defend myself. My mind! To stop people like you looking in it all the time."

"People like me? I don't know what you're talking about," he said, with an odd twist to his lips.

"It's not fair, I only have a week left. One week!"

"A deal's a deal," Severus reminded her, walking towards the door. "If you haven't progressed well by the time I get back you'll be drinking what's there."

Tempest pulled a sour face, then returned her attention to her cauldron. She was supposed to be creating a sleeping draught- extremely simple, but she hadn't practised it with her tutor and so he decided it best to patronise her. Under the pressure that Severus exerted upon her, though, she wouldn't be surprised if it could knock a person out for a few weeks. She doubted that, if she were to drink it, Severus would bother with waking her again. It would count as death for a little while and she wouldn't get her lessons as promised. The very idea annoyed Tempest, and she promised herself to do well in the lessons for the last two days of her stay with the Potions master.

The past few years had been no different in excitement or thrill than her first years had been before Draco had ever gone to Hogwarts. For the past two summers she had been returning to Severus Snape's dingy home for amateur potions lessons, although Tempest was sure she had proven she was talented enough to not require lessons. Lucius, however, revelled in the idea of being alone with his wife for one week a year- Draco had, by this point, become powerful enough amongst his Slytherin companions that he escaped to their homes most of the holiday.

"Certainly, it's the happiest day in a parent's life when they realise their child is too embarrassed of their parentage to get in the way," Lucius had mused aloud in the library one day after Draco disappeared through the fireplace.

This, of course, came with no sourness on Tempest's part. In fact, she enjoyed the idea of being alone in her room or the library, or sneaking about the manor, while Draco was not around a corner, prepared to hex her, having long found out a loophole in the 'no magic out of school' pact. Tempest herself hadn't known that it would just be assumed that the Malfoy parents had casted the spell. To tell the truth, knowing this, she rather missed Draco and the duels that always came whenever he was there.

"Have you finished?" came an abrupt voice, startling Tempest. She only just realised that she had been daydreaming ever since she finished the potion about ten minutes beforehand.

"Oh, yeah, I think so," she stuttered, standing aside and revealing the contents. Severus wrinkled his nose slightly.

"I'll still have to make you drink it, you know," he said.

"I guessed as much. You never did play fair." Severus smiled his own twisted smile as he summoned a goblet and dipped it into the potion, then handing it to Tempest.

"I should warn you now, I am under no obligation to do anything if it goes wrong," he said in one of his more cheerful tones. Tempest pulled a face.

"Lucius might make it an obligation."

"We'll see, won't we?"

Tempest paused, looking down at the potion. She was sure enough she had done everything right, but an idea came to her mind that made the corner of her lips twitch slightly.

"I have a wager for you," she said brightly, smiling.

"And I have no time for wagers."

"Can you make time?" she asked, receiving no reply. Tempest took this as a cue to continue. "How about, if it works, you'll pretend my birthday's today? You'll teach me all that stuff today instead."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you seem so certain that I'm wrong." Severus pondered this. It was true. He was sure enough that the potion would not work- she was indeed a brilliant student at the more complicated potions, but far too cocky to achieve at the more simple ones.

"Fine then," he said finally. The two shook hands reluctantly.

With a defiant smile, Tempest raised the goblet in a toast and drank it in a swift gulp. Both of them waited in curiosity, before Tempest fell to the floor. Severus Snape watched for a moment before realising that she was asleep. Cursing himself slightly, he sat down, waiting for the girl to wake up, timing it in the meanwhile. She had two hours before she lost the bet.

----------------

Tempest shot up the moment she awoke again from her sleep. She found that she had been left on the floor where she had collapsed. Rubbing her head, she looked around the room, trying to find Severus through her blurry vision. When the room stopped spinning, she saw Severus Snape sitting in the armchair, looking at her with disgust. She smiled brightly, guessing well enough why he seemed so bitter.

"So, how long was it?" she asked innocently.

"A day," Severus replied briskly.

"No it wasn't, that was two hours!"

"How would you know? You were asleep." Tempest laughed and pointed at the grandfather clock in the corner. Severus scowled. "And how do you know that we are not a day onwards?"

"Because I'm not stupid," she said happily, bringing herself to her feet. "And I know you'd try and trick me out of what I was promised."

"You certainly are observant," Severus noted, daring to smile slightly. His composure returned almost instantly, though, as he brought his wand out. "Fine, I shan't try and cheat you out of it."

"Promise?"

"You have my word," Severus replied. Tempest wrinkled her nose.

"It's never worth much."

"Either you take my word, or we'll go back to potions." At this thought, Severus sneered. "Perhaps we'll start again with the Hiccoughing Solution."

"And why would I demean myself with such tasks?"

"Because I am your tutor, and therefore have the right to demean you in any fashion I so choose." Scowling, Tempest clenched her fists and sighed heavily.

"Fine then, your word."

"I warn you now, I have not taught Occlumency before now."

"Have I just witnesses Severus Snape admitting to a fault in his educational skills?" Tempest teased.

"Of course not," Severus replied with a smirk. "It just means I'll have to use a little more force with you."

"Severus, haven't you learnt yet? You hold just about as much threat to me as a Puffskein." She paused to laugh. "Maybe a Porlock, the nose kind of bears a resemblance."

"And here I thought you might have a little imagination." He sighed. "Soon enough I'll be able to see where it all went wrong with you._ Legilimens,"_ he said in a bored voice. For a mere moment, Tempest was not sure what was meant to happen. As soon as that moment was over, though, the room started to spin and images started to flash through her mind.

Draco poking her incessantly when they were both seven. Not long afterwards, Draco screamed as red boils started to appear over his face and a rather disgruntled Tempest smiled daringly.

Tempest watching as Draco received his letter to Hogwarts, a look of annoyance on her face as she stared at the boy.

Dobby the house elf's expression when Lucius walked in to find Tempest proffering a sweater in a friendly gesture. As a three year old, she hadn't had a clue about what sort of trouble the house elf was in for it.

Then there was a moment that wouldn't have made sense to anyone who watched. A young Tempest sitting at the end of her bed. The moment she realised she was adopted.

Tempest jolted as she was released from the spell, the room coming back into focus. Realising that Severus was sneering slightly, she scowled.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was just a taste of the rest of our lessons."

"How's that going to help?"

"It won't," Severus admitted without a hint of apology. "But I must say, your mind still holds simple little pleasures I really can't deny myself."

"You're sick, did you know that?"

"I've been told so." Severus raised his wand again. "Now, before I teach you anything, I think I might take another look."


	11. Chapter 11

_Oh, look, can't you see how much your death means to me  
__Please won't you play in a busy street?  
__-The Last Word, Voltaire_

While Severus Snape continued his work at Hogwarts, Tempest had little other to do than practise her Occlumency classes by herself. Lucius attempted to teach her different lessons, but to no use- she knew it all anyway. There was barely a spell he knew that she could not perform, or had not performed. There were, of course, some which even he was loathed to tell a fourteen year old girl, especially one who had barely a clue about the Cause. For a child of such passion and intelligence, Lucius thought to himself, she knows so little of the world.

More often than not, she retreated to her bedroom, finding herself in a state of near-meditation from which she disallowed anyone to disturb her. If so, as Narcissa discovered unfortunately on an infrequent trip to the girl's room, they would find themselves with a nasty burn on their hand where they touched the door handle.

"Severus didn't set her homework, did he?" she asked Lucius as she entered the parlour, her hand thrust under her arm as she winced in pain.

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then why must she have the excuse to start firing charms at me?"

"To be fair, my dear, it could have been me just as easily."

"That's not the point at all, Lucius!"

"Well, I don't see much point in arguing about it, then," he concluded, beckoning his wife over to his side and wrapping an arm around her waist. "You really detest her, don't you?"

"More than you with Draco," she said thoughtfully. Almost too calmly for his liking. Lucius stiffened.

"I don't detest him."

"You seem to act like it."

"Of course I do."

There was an awkward pause, after which Lucius rose to his feet gently, pushing Narcissa away from him. She stared after her husband, a curious look in her eye. Narcissa had long accepted the idea that he did not care for his son. It was, after all, natural enough. She doubted that her father had cared much for her, nor that Lucius' father cared for him. Being brought up in a pure blood manner, it was as it was supposed to be.

"I don't blame you," Narcissa said quietly. "I mean, I didn't ask you to care. Draco didn't expect you to either."

"And I didn't assume I was supposed to care," he replied briskly, although it was far too quick to be a natural reply. "But I never said that I didn't."

Narcissa bowed her head, slightly ashamed of herself for bringing up such a topic.

"You don't have to say it now."

"I don't plan to," Lucius said musingly. "Nor, I think, will I ever."

Narcissa looked as though she were about to speak, but a loud crashing sound from the floor above them sounded through the house, echoing. Neither two of the party seemed at all alarmed, but instead a calm annoyance appeared on one face while the other was simply bored. Both looked at each other, and neither needed to note what had just happened. In frustration, Tempest had yet again managed to blow her door off its hinges. Following was a slightly muted series of swearing, muffled only by the thick carpets. Lucius rolled his eyes.

"She must have lost concentration," he said. "Why Severus ever attempted to teach her this sort of thing, I'll never know."

"Forced him, I should think."

"Most likely."

Sighing, Lucius looked towards the door with a slightly despondent expression.

"I should probably go and see what happened."

"Do make sure that door goes back on its hinges," Narcissa said, wincing at the idea of the commotion upstairs. There was something about the thought of ash all over her carpet that made her shudder. Lucius laughed inwardly, sure in what his wife was thinking.

Lucius found that the door had indeed been blown off its hinges when he arrived upstairs, but to his surprise there was no soot. As if reading his mind when Tempest saw him, she laughed.

"I've perfected blowing things up," she said. "Narcissa doesn't have to worry."

"Both of us would rather there was no blowing up at all, whether it be a clean job or not."

"I'm afraid we can't have that," Tempest said, smiling musingly. Lucius wrinkled his nose slightly, looking around the room. It looked almost as if someone had set off a very sizeable explosion.

"What went wrong?" he asked. Tempest suddenly went tense, clenching her fists tightly until the knuckles turned an alarming white.

"I was so close," she said. "Someone distracted me."

"No one was here."

"Someone must have done it! I don't just lose concentration that easily."

"You're only human."

"Since when has that ever been an excuse?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Lucius smiled slightly.

"That was different," he replied. "Piano practise is nothing like this."

"Because this actually comes in useful," Tempest persisted. "What use is piano? And yet that was more of a fuss."

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, you know."

"And you're not putting enough on me!" Tempest's cheeks had flushed a rather violent scarlet in earnest, though it was not at all surprising. She had, as of late, been prone to such mood swings, and the Malfoys had learnt to live with them as well as they could.

"Be glad I allow Severus to teach you those lessons," Lucius warned, his own patience wearing thin. "You go there only to learn Potions, and nothing else."

"What difference does it make if he teaches me Occlumency?"

"The difference is between the chaos you bring back from those lessons or peace without the house being burnt down."

"I'm not gonna burn the house down," she murmured after a long pause.

"That was simply an example." He paused. "I would not put it past you, though."

"You think too little of me."

"And yet, oddly enough, I really could not care less."

"Then you can leave," Tempest pointed out cheerfully enough, sitting again on the edge of her bed and closing her eyes. Lucius stared for a moment, but could find nothing to say against the fact, and so stormed in a manner of speaking out of the room. With a calm expression of satisfaction, Tempest bowed her head, and tried again.

Lucius, on the other hand, could not be said to have the same serenity. His lips were pressed together into a thin line as he attempted to keep his patience, but did not succeed very well in hiding it. Narcissa smiled musingly as her husband came back into the room, but refrained from mentioning the anger in his features.

"So she did blow off the door?"

"No ashes," he said through gritted teeth. "She is improving on that, I'll give her that at least."

"I still don't want to have to keep getting that door fixed. There's only so much a wand can do."

Lucius stood at the window, watching the clouds passing outside. He clenched his jaw, wincing slightly under the effort of keeping a straight face. At last, he let out an odd sound not unlike a growl, and bashed against the wall.

"I swear," he said fiercely, "if she puts another toe out of line, I don't care what your sister thinks. I'm going to have to kill her."


	12. Chapter 12

_Hit me from the back side  
I am on the white side  
You are on the black side  
__-Gravity, The Dresden Dolls_

The Malfoy parents learnt to ignore Tempest for the rest of the school year. The message, it seemed, was passed on also to Draco, who also made a point of not going near her. He was content enough in the fully attention of his parents, and had no reason to complain. Nor did Tempest. She was plenty happy enough being left to herself, practising closing out her mind. She did not know how she was supposed to test the fact, but assumed that come the summer holidays she would find out whether all the practise had worked.

It could not be said, though, that tensions had at all lessened. Narcissa still hated Tempest, and Tempest detested her likewise. Lucius very rarely taught the girl as the year went by, until she was teaching herself- or, to put it in better terms, revising over the spells. She was sure enough she knew each and every one off by heart, and knew that she could perform those that she did not dare use if the time came.

Yet, change was due in the lifestyle, as most lifestyles are interrupted in some way another. For some, it is the realisation that a spell has gone horribly wrong, and that they must walk around with a cabbage for a foot for quite some time. For others, it is the knowledge that they can't perform spells at all, and envy the person with a cabbage for a foot. In the case of the Malfoys and Tempest, it came in a much different form.

As was usual, Tempest sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes closed, the image of concentration. There was little else she did in those months other than close her mind, constantly praying it worked. Still, there were times when she was forced to leave her room out of bear necessity, and she did so reluctantly, clutching her quite empty stomach. The house was quiet enough for her to walk with the knowledge that no one was going to start throwing curses at her- she didn't put it past Narcissa at all.

Although the household had already bought a new house elf, Tempest did not like to ask it for anything when she was hungry. She didn't know its name or gender, and didn't really want to ask. It was difficult to tell, really, seeing as it looked such an abnormal thing that she did not like the idea of speaking to it. It reminded her too much of something carved out of a potato.

When she entered the kitchen- which, in her opinion, was one of the less cared for rooms of the house- she arched an eyebrow to see Lucius standing there, a goblet in his hand. He looked over to her nonchalantly, and nodded briskly.

"You only ever drink in the parlour," Tempest pointed out lightly.

"Supposedly not," he replied, taking another sip. "So you've finally decided to leave that room?"

"Guess," she said sarcastically, turning away from him to open the cupboards. She wrinkled her nose. "And now I'm slightly regretting that choice."

"As per usual, I only wish I could care more," Lucius drawled, taking another sip. "I remind you that Draco will be returning in a week or so."

"I may have been in my room for a while, but I do know what day it is, Lucius."

"Would you honestly have rathered I'd let it come as a shock? I didn't think you'd be happy with a surprise attack."

"Over the years I've learnt that a surprise attack from Draco is really no different than being jumped by a Bowtruckle. A little bit of a scratch, then easily caught on fire."

"Ah yes," Lucius said thoughtfully, remembering that eventful summer so many years ago. "I don't think he quite forgave you after that."

"I never asked him to." Lucius smiled slightly. However much he hated to admit it, he had missed that sarcastic charm over the months. His smile, however, quickly turned into a grimace as he dropped the goblet and clutched his arm.

Tempest looked up from the countertop, her eyes wide.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, forgetting his composure. "Must have been a twitch. It's nothing."

"As if you have ever had a twitch," she said irritably, walking towards him and grabbing his arm. "Let me see."

"For the last time, it's-"

"Nothing," she mimicked, shaking her head. "You don't constantly have to be so stubborn, now let me-"

"No."

"Lucius, let me look!" There was minimal struggle before Tempest successfully pulled up the arm of his robes and stared blankly at his skin. To her surprise, there was a dark tattoo of a skull, a snake coming out of its mouth. She tilted her head, as Lucius waited with baited breath. "What on…"

"You should learn to keep your curiosity to yourself," Lucius spat.

"I was only trying to help," she muttered, but her eyes could not stop staring at the spot on his arm that was now covered by his robes. "What is it?"

Lucius opened his mouth, but gritted his teeth. He kicked the goblet lazily as he went to leave the room, although was stopped as Tempest clung to his robe sleeve. She wasn't quite sure why she was so desperate to know, but did not like the idea of a secret being kept. The very idea of made her blood boil. With a quick wave of his hand, Lucius batted her away and strode up several flights of stairs towards his bedroom, Tempest following him at each step.

"I advise you leave," he said bitterly as he closed the door behind him, locking it and leaving Tempest on the other side. Tempest clenched her fist and hit it against the door several times before gritting her teeth. A few minutes had passed, and she heard a rush of footsteps in the room. She pressed her ear against the door, not quite sure what was happening. At last, it became too much, and she took a step back and extended a hand towards the door.

"_Alohomora_!" she said, and with a loud click the door unlocked. She refused to pause before charging forward and opening the door.

What happened next could not entirely be explained in words, and nor could it be explained in any abstract manner within Tempest's mind. From what she gathered, the door must have been stiff, and she flew across the room until she had charged into Lucius. Tempest could not remember seeing his face, but knew that even if she had looked directly towards him she would not have seen him. After that, there was little time to think before she suddenly rolled to the floor.

She was met by a strange darkness.

As a sound of feet in the grass started to sound, Tempest looked up and allowed natural instinct to hide wash over her; she saw a gravestone not too far away and scrambled towards it silently, breathing heavily. Even by this point, she hadn't a clue what was happening, and doubted that she wanted to know. She shivered slightly in the cold- it had been warm when she had left the manor (she was sure that she had definitely left it, there were no gravestones in the garden), and yet now it was so cold that she could almost see her breath on the air.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said a quiet voice- quiet, yet it still echoed as if shrieked. "Thirteen years…thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday… we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! _Or are we?_"

Tempest shuddered again, less out of the temperature, and more due to the quiet, high pitched voice. There was something about it that made her spine tingle. As if she were in a young child's nightmare. Such a nightmare opened up so many opportunities of curiosity, though, that she found she could not resist. Tentatively, Tempest leant forward, shaking so much that it took all her effort not to collapse to the ground heavily. Her eyes wandered the cemetery- she had gathered that it was such- and in the time she did so, her breathing returned quite to normal.

Lucius was down on his knees, looking up to the owner of the quiet voice. _Lord Voldemort_. Tempest knew that she did not know much about the world. In fact, it was quite a pitiful amount that she did know. Yet of all the things she had known, Lord Voldemort was the one thing that held little interest to her. He had died. Everyone knew that he had died. At least, those were the suspicions. The Malfoys had never spoken about the subject, so Tempest had come to the conclusion that there was no longer a wizard by the name of Voldemort- the name and principle of his evil was all she knew of him.

There was only one other figure of any significance in the grounds, one that could barely be noticed due to the dim lighting. If it had not been for the dim fire under a cauldron, Tempest would not have seen him.

_The Boy Who Lived._

She leant forward slightly, as if to get a better view, but froze as she felt something under her hand after she had moved it. With a mixture of both fear and abhorrence, she looked down, and had it not been for the intense fear that had hold of her, Tempest would have screamed at the sight. Laying on the ground, a pale and stony expression on his face, was a young man- he could not have been more than seventeen years old- freshly deceased. Tempest could not help but note he was a handsome man, though his hair was ruffled in a strange manner, and his clothes ripped every so slightly. He must have fought somehow before he died, Tempest thought to herself.

Even though there was enough to watch, Tempest could not think of any single specific thing she wished to look upon. All of it somehow led to death. She saw hazily that the boy who lived- she could not bear to name him directly, he was more a celebrity than a human- was untied and watched him grapple for his wand. She watched him diving behind another tombstone, and emerging with a determined face.

Yet it was all still a haze.

Minutes could have gone by. An hour, perhaps. The whole night could even have flown away and Tempest would not have noticed at all. However much time it was, she was only awakened from her trance as she saw the boy who lived running towards her. Her eyes flew open as she fell backwards, back out of view. The very last thing she saw of him that evening was his hand shooting out towards the deceased boy's arm, and they both disappeared abruptly.

And it was all done.

At least, all that concerned the previous battle.

Without warning of either sight or sound, there sounded a loud crack throughout the grounds, and Tempest was forced down flat against the ground, covering her head. Someone had set a curse on the tombstone she was hiding behind. Before there was a single chance to scream for mercy or to proclaim her name, Tempest was tossed into the air and thrown roughly into a tree trunk by an invisible force. She hit the floor again, and stared up at a ratty looking man who held a wand pointed directly towards her.

"Don't kill me!" she said breathily as the man's mouth opened to speak the curse.

"Wait," sounded a soft, high pitched voice, the one she knew to be Lord Voldemort's. Tempest took a sharp intake of breathe as she saw him push his way though the crowd of men in the cemetery and stood above her. His slit like nostrils flared in anger, his red eyes ablaze. "So I was right," he continued, his voice louder now. "We have a spy in our midst."

"No!" she cried out, desperate. "No, I'm not spy." She looked around quickly, until her eyes rested upon one man. "I'm his!" she said erratically, pointing towards Lucius. "I'm his ward, that's all!"

Lord Voldemort spun on his heel, his eyes a more fiery red than before.

"Come here," he hissed, and with more fervour than she had ever seen him possess before, Lucius marched to his master's feet and bent on one knee. Like a man awaiting death.

"My Lord," he said immediately, his voice low and respectful. "Do forgive me, I did not purposefully bring her. She followed me."

"I needn't remind you that she seems far too young to be able to Apparate herself, Lucius, but how she came here is not the question I asked. The question is instead _who_ is she?" In Tempest's mind, his voice had been far too calm to be at all forgiving. A slight fear came upon her at the idea of the punishment to be exacted.

"She clung onto my robes, my Lord," Lucius continued, as if desperate to make his point known. With a flick of Voldemort's wand, a thin scratch appeared on Lucius's cheek- he winced as blood began to trickle slightly.

"_Do not lie to me_," was the only reply to be made. "Who is she?" Lucius looked up daringly into those red eyes, his jaw set firmly.

"He was not the only one to survive," Lucius said finally.

Tempest stared up at them both, a wand still pointed at her. There was silence. Pure silence. It is very rare that such silence can take place, where one can almost hear the thoughts of others. Not that she could, but Tempest was sure that if her own heart beat wasn't drowning out any other sound, she would have heard someone's thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a strange noise. A few men jumped, one even looked around, startled. No one quite knew what the sound was until a moment later, when all eyes turned to Lord Voldemort.

He was laughing.

It was a high pitched laughter that did not sound as if it had properly been used in many a year. At least, not properly. It was broken, and it was haunting, but it was definitely laughter.

"The girl who lived?" His laughter echoed now, it was almost deafening. "Of course, perhaps not in those words, perhaps instead the girl who survived. How foolish of me, I should have known better to leave the weakest until last-"

"I am not weak," Tempest said suddenly and very firmly indeed. If there was one thing she could not stand, it certainly was the belittling of her talents.

"Of course not," the Dark Lord laughed, shaking his head, his smile less of a smile, and more a hungry bloodlust. "If you were weak, you would be even lower to the ground than my servants. You would have a wand at your throat, ready to kill you. But wait," he added musingly, still laughing. With a sudden change of mood, the laughter ceased, and in a swift movement Lord Voldemort had pushed the portly rat man aside and held his own wand towards her. "You already are!" he shrieked.

"_Expelliarmus!_," Tempest cried out firmly, and in a flash of scarlet light the wand was thrown from Voldemort's hand.

Again, that deathly silence.

There was no laughter to break it, however maniacal that laughter might have been. A few of the men pondered the idea to mutter between each other, but expected in this state that their Lord would kill them the moment they uttered a sound. They had expected to be murdered some way or another when the infamous Harry Potter had defeated him. They did not dare imagine what could happen to them now that a girl, without aid of a wand, had disarmed him.

Though there was no laughter accompanying the movement, Lord Voldemort stood tall, not allowing his eyes to leave the girl. He seemed curious, to say the least, rather than murderous. Everyone seemed to have taken a good step backwards, so Tempest was sitting alone now in the grass, not sure whether to rise or not.

"So a blood traitor and a mudblood bring me this," Voldemort finally said, his high pitched voice quite a shock after the quiet. "I must say, even I am impressed."

"My Lord, I must object-" started Lucius, but he was quickly silenced.

"She is powerful, why did you not tell me?"

"I would, had I known she was of interest to you, my Lord."

"You believe at all that I am not in want of numbers, Lucius. You disappoint me." Lucius bowed his head, his chest heaving in anticipation. The Dark Lord seemed to lose interest in him quickly, though, and turned again to Tempest, who had long lost any fear. She smiled knowingly. Her power was enough to impress even the Dark Lord Voldemort. Though she had shown no interest in his cause, she had to admit that she enjoyed the knowledge that he approved of her.

"What're you going to do with me?" she asked quietly, although there was still a lack of respect and fear in her tone.

"Oh, I do think you know exactly what will happen to you," the Dark Lord said, his eyes lowered. He turned, and in a swirl of his robes, he had disappeared. All but one of the other men disappeared at the very same moment. All but one.

"Tempest?" Lucius said quietly, yet still in the tone he had always addressed her. Tempest turned to him, and rose to her feet quickly.

"You didn't tell me," she whispered, her previous smile now gone without a trace.

"What interest would it have been to you?"

"Plenty enough if you had told me, I should think."

"Then surely you could have asked." Tempest gritted her teeth, and a branch from a tree fell to the ground not too far from them.

"I could have asked?" she said, shaking slightly. "I could have asked the most random of questions of all, asked you a question that never would even have occurred to me. Would Draco have had to ask?"

"Draco didn't have to ask," Lucius replied before he could help himself.

He barely even took a breath before the fallen tree branch came flying towards him.

"You idiot!" she screeched as she watched Lucius crash to the floor again, rubbing his head. "That's supposed to explain anything? You absolute idiot!"

She could not stand it any more.

"Take me back," she muttered mutinously after a long pause.

**A/N- Sorry if this chapter seemed kind of rushed in places, I couldn't help it.**

**What I really want to say is I'm glad that I have so many readers out there, I keep getting all these Story Alert notices and Favourite Story notices, so I know there are loads of you reading. Just one problem. I'm only getting one regular reviewer! They're great reviews, but I would like to hear from more of you. Please? I'd so love to hear from you all!**


	13. Chapter 13

_Think of your darkest night  
__Think of your soul alone  
__If you can bear the sight  
__Think of the love you've never known  
__-Faces Like Mine, Emilie Autumn_

There were no candles lit in the room that they apparated into. Neither was quite sure where they were, and could only be sure they were back in the Malfoy Manor. Tempest folded her arms, glowering at the dim figure of Lucius who stood before her. It was all she could do not to light the candles herself and burn him with them.

"We've verified that I'm an 'idiot' as you so plainly call it," Lucius said all of a sudden. "But I assume there was something of more use you had to say."

"I could think of something more inventive to say, but I shouldn't think that it would be wise."

"Probably not," he agreed. There was a long pause before anything else was said.

"How could you do such a thing?" Tempest asked, her voice bitter. "I may not know much about the world, but I certainly know its history. I know what you people did. I know what _he_ asked of you."

"So you do not agree with the Cause?"

"I don't," she said firmly. "Well, I have no opinion per say, it does not interest me at all. But I do know that even if I did think such ludicrous thoughts I would not gallivant through towns throwing curses left right and centre."

"You make it sound so easy."

"If it were hard, I don't think you of all people would do it." Lucius froze slightly, and moved a step closer towards the girl threateningly.

"Kill a man," he said bluntly. "Kill a man, and tell me that again."

"Don't you dare pretend you care about that sort of thing."

"You're right," he said with a passive sneer. "I suppose I only did care about a certain amount of men I killed."

"None of the women? None of the children?"

"Oh, you do think too much of me."

"Stop making such a joke out of everything!" Tempest shrieked, a lamp blowing up somewhere in the darkness of the room. "What just happened was not a joke! Everything that has happened is not a joke!"

"Do you even know what just happened?" Tempest bit her lip fiercely. No, she did not know what had just happened. She knew the basics, of course. She knew that she had just come face to face with the most feared wizard of all time. She knew that she herself had come close to death. She knew, though, that something else had happened.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked shakily, attempting to sound cool without much success.

"It is supposed to mean that you are over reacting about matters you don't even understand. I would allow you to be angry if you knew them."

"You would _allow _me to be angry?"

"Certainly. But I daresay you don't even know now what you are mad about."

"Does it at all matter? There's nothing you can say to give me reason more!"

"I wouldn't bet your life on it," Lucius said bitterly. Tempest gritted her teeth, then nodded.

"Fine. What is my 'reason'?"

"You wish for me to tell you?" he asked lightly.

"Who else?"

"I simply assume you would rather news come from those you hate rather than those you have…perhaps not admired nor loved, but at least survived with. And no, not Narcissa," he added before Tempest could say another word.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so she did not ask. Tempest remained in a state of anger, but kept it within her own mind instead of attacking Lucius at any point which she found necessary. Even when she was forced into one of Lucius's so called 'events'- translated, in Tempest's opinion, as an overpriced party with no true meaning. Certainly, there was no real meaning apart from the return of Draco from his school year, or perhaps the school's success at the Triwizard Tournament.

It did not need to be said that the more implied celebration was the return of Lord Voldemort.

The event- some form of twisted masquerade- was held the evening Draco returned from Hogwarts, and it did not escape Tempest's notice that Draco seemed as bitter about the celebrations as she was. Yet she also noticed quite a flush in his cheeks, a very pale pink, and also the slight turn of his lips. He was excited. It was not noticeable, but Tempest knew she was quite talented in reading faces. More so with Draco than Narcissa was.

She watched him for a while that evening while the adults spoke of trivial (at least, trivial in her matter of opinion) matters. Soon enough she grew irritated with simply standing beside a rather irritating portrait, a rather forgetful old man who kept repeating little old stories, and she moved beside Draco.

"Father's already told you, hasn't he?" Draco said, not even looking at her. "About You-Know-Who."

"He didn't need to."

"So you're some sort of Divination freak now, are you?"

"No. I was there." Draco's head turned briskly towards her now, his eyebrows raised.

"Of course. Did I remind you that you're a nutter?"

"Well, along those lines, this afternoon when you got back."

"Makes sense. But then I didn't know you thought you were there."

"I was there, though."

"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes. "Well, you know about it, at least, no matter how you found out."

"I'll allow you to think that I found out through your father," Tempest said.

"Father will be meeting him," Draco continued, ignoring Tempest's comment. "Much more during these holidays and the Ministry gives him time off."

"I had gathered as much."

"It isn't much use if you only gather information. It would be much more helpful for you to be certain."

"More often than not I'm certain of what I know. I do not doubt what my mind had told me. I have no reason to."

"This is not a matter of your intellect," Draco spat. "It is much more important, and I would thank you not to start bringing up such trivial matters. We're not children any more, we don't need to use such juvenile tactics."

"Then tell me whatever it is you wanted heard."

"It's only a thought I had. When we found out. Father's going to be summoned by You-Know-Who, and there are only a few people that ever get brought along to those meetings. I asked Father for myself, but he refused to let me come with him. But he doesn't trust me like he trusts you."

"He trusts you no less than he trusts me. He simply prefers to evoke some jealousy, I should think."

"Or perhaps he truly believes you're more worthy of the Cause." Tempest paused, thinking through the words again and again.

"You think he's going to take me to the meetings?"

"I'm pretty sure of it. I don't see why. You've never had any training. And let's face it; you are a girl."

"Which I'm also sure doesn't matter. All that's concerned here is power, not gender."

"Either way, it's going to happen. And for no bloody good reason. Believe me, if you ever got a Dark Mark, I'd kiss your feet."

"Believe me, I wouldn't let you."

At this time, their conversation was interrupted, and both turned to see Lucius standing with his goblet risen high to announce a toast. He stood in front of a large ice sculpture, which had nothing really to do with anything. A beautiful man and woman also holding up goblets in a pose of praise.

"I am sure that many of you are aware of the sudden increase of children in the room," he began, pointing towards varying Hogwarts students in the room. "Among them is my son, Draco, who I wish to raise a toast to now."

Many people raised their goblets, all apart from Tempest. She stepped aside slightly, so as not to catch attention. Draco scowled at his father. If there was one thing that he could not stand, it was not being able to command attention in his own manner. It was strange in Tempest's opinion, but then again, who was she to dub what was strange or not?

"Certainly, I'm sure that he would enjoy partaking in the next dance alongside us." At this, even Tempest rose her eyebrows. "With any girl who he may choose."

Draco gritted his teeth, and turned his head to Tempest. If she had not seen the bitter look many a time before, she would have been shocked at the anger.

"Pansy Parkinson was forever treading on my feet at the Yule Ball. I can't say that I'm glad in asking for you, though."

"You flatter me too much," Tempest replied, lifting her mask to her face. Lucius had always made sure his parties made Tempest hidden. She was not to be recognised as not his own. In fact, she was not to be recognised as anything to do with him or his family. She supposed it was all a matter of status and secrecy.

To Tempest's surprise, Draco did not try to break her hand in the similar fashion that they often did whenever forced into contact. She was quite glad, and could see that Draco was too, when the attention was taken away from them, and the other guests had either begun to dance themselves or were away in other rooms. Tempest and Draco stared at each other for a while, forgetting to speak. Anyone watching may have thought it a sweet romance. They, however, knew perfectly well that they were trying to concentrate on the task set before them; not arguing, not annoying, and not murdering.

At least, Tempest was.

Draco did of course concentrate on doing anything silly enough to bring attention towards the two of them, but could not help but be distracted. For a while now there had been something about Tempest that made him think. At first he had thought that he was developing a child-like crush on the girl, but discovered soon enough that it was not that. It was something different. Something about the way she looked that sparked a thought in the back of his mind.

It took him until that very dance to realise, though, what it was.

Those green eyes.

"Merlin," he choked, his eyes all of a sudden wide. Tempest tilted her head.

"We know I'm a good dancer, but not that good."

"No, I mean…" Draco trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

"You mean?"

"I think I know something you don't know."

"Another battle at my intelligence? You always lose, Draco."

"No, not really." He paused. "I'll tell you if you want."

"Then obviously it's important. You rarely tell me anything unless it's important."

"It's just…your eyes."

"What about them?" Draco paused again, contemplating how to exactly phrase his words. He then realised that truly, he did not care whether the words came harshly, abruptly, or kindly- only that the words came out at all.

"They're just like Potter's."

Tempest nodded slowly, not quite sure what the fact had to do about anything. Draco shook his own head, realising that perhaps the information was a little to quick for her to realise what it meant exactly. So he allowed her to think through the words, to allow her to find the meaning behind them herself.

And so she did.

For a while, while they still danced, Tempest thought that Draco was ever so slightly insane for mentioning the idea of eye colour. Especially seeing as he disliked both her and Harry Potter, the latter of whom was hated even more if that was possible. Why in the name of Merlin was he thinking about such irrelevant matters? It did not make sense.

Then it suddenly clicked. Her mind flashed back to the graveyard, Lord Voldemort standing there in front of her, cackling. _The Girl Who Lived_. It had meant nothing when she had heard it. She had been far to frightened to have thought twice about whatever the man had said rather than the wand pointed at her. _The Girl Who Lived. _It sounded so familiar. _The Boy Who Lived._

With a sudden, sharp intake of breath, Tempest pulled away from Draco and ran across the ballroom, forgetting her mask and dropping it behind her with a soft clatter. She had known for so long that she was adopted. She had even expected she was an orphan. All that had been clear to her was that she was not wanted, and had no one else apart from the Malfoys. She had only one family member- herself. She had long begun to accept that. In some ways, she had enjoyed the fact. She had at least known her place.

For the next few hours, he could not even remember her name.

All that was clear the next morning were dim memories. There had been water. No, not water. Port. Rum. Wine. Any form of poison she could get her hands on. There had been a lot of darkness after that. Tempest had woken in the middle of the night to find herself not alone as well. She had not cared, though. Even when she had heard what they were talking about. Even when she had felt what they were doing. She was only glad that she had been far too intoxicated to feel anything. She remembered it, though. She remembered every movement of a hand on her thigh, a lip pressed on her neck.

It was not the fact that there were men taking advantage of her state that had made her worry. It was the sudden abruptness of it. No one had ever truly looked at her until that night. No one had given her more than a quick glance with an idea of lust in their eye. It had only been when her past was brought to light for her that anyone at all wished for her. Though there was possibly no connection between the two events, Tempest believed, once her head had cleared up, that there was.

She had changed.

Of course, it wasn't much of a realisation. It wasn't much of a theory. Yet it was still reason enough for Tempest to stare into her mirror that day and see the smallest of changes. Her bright green eyes had become ever so slightly darker. It was not very noticeable, but it was clear to anyone who stared long enough. Dark circles lay under her eyes, showing the fatigue and events of the previous night. Her make up had smudged across her face, but it was cleared away soon enough and greasily pale skin was revealed underneath. Four small, simple words came to mind.

_This is Tempest Potter._

**A/N-** Sorry it took so long to upload, but I had this week long camp thing. It was really annoying seeing as I only had about half of a page to go until it was finished, and I had to wait a week to write it. Ah well, c'est la vie. Readers, you did so well at reviewing, I'm so happy that you're all reading this! Please don't stop now!


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry for the setback  
I know I let you down  
Turn back the clocks and step back  
And spring might come around_

_- The Gardener, The Dresden Dolls_

Lucius was in no doubt that Tempest finally knew the truth. Draco had hinted as much, and he had not seen her throughout the rest of the night. When she finally emerged from her room in the late afternoon, dressed in an oversized shirt and shorts. Narcissa's taunts about fellow students in Hogwarts had taught him that this certainly was not the best of signs. Draco could not suppress his amusement at the sight of her, and let it out in one mocking snort. Even Narcissa smiled faintly.

"Rough night?" Draco asked through a fresh bout of laughter. He stopped immediately as Tempest shot him a glare that was seen only rarely.

"I've packed my trunk," Tempest said gruffly, her eyes turning to Lucius. "I'll be gone by supper."

"Might we expect an explanation?" Lucius asked calmly.

"I think you know," she replied, nodding curtly at Draco. "I'm not one for explanations."

"You were always one for puzzles, though," Lucius noted. "I suppose you've proven that now."

"Perhaps she's simply proven a knack for poking her nose in past matters," Narcissa said, looking quite bitter and yet relieved.

"I would expect you to have a little more respect, Narcissa," Tempest spat all of a sudden. "You finally have what you wished for. I'm leaving."

"And not a moment too soon," Narcissa muttered under her breath, but she was gladly ignored.

"Where are you going, may I ask?"

"I haven't a clue," Tempest admitted. "I should think I will know when I get there."

"Not the best of tactics, I must say."

"But a tactic nonetheless, as you have admitted."

"True," he said musingly.

"And the reason you have to leave is…" Draco trailed off, leaving the question open. Tempest stared at him for a moment, and then looked down to the floor.

"Because I know well enough that I shouldn't stay."

"There is no real reason, is there?"

"No, but would you in my place remain?"

Draco paused before shaking his head, but Lucius rose from his seat and placed a hand on Tempest's shoulder.

"You needn't leave, you know."

"But I will anyway."

"Then leave, will you?" Narcissa said irritably, standing from her seat. "I speak certainly for myself when I say that this whole little speech is rather boring." Without another word, she left the room, her chin held high.

Lucius paused to look at Tempest one more time before he turned on his heel to follow his wife from the parlour. Tempest wondered whether to be at all amused by this, but decided it best to retain an air of annoyance. She waited before finally nodding to herself and turning to leave the room from the second door of the room for her trunk. Before she could even turn, though, a firm hand was wrapped around her wrist.

"You're an ungrateful insect, you know?"

"I have heard worse, Draco."

"He could teach you, and you're throwing that all away," he said, ignoring her comment. "And for what? A whim."

"A well enough thought out whim."

"Then what possible reasoning could you have? You don't even know where you're going."

"I do, actually."

"But you just told father that you didn't have a clue."

"And in that time I figured out where I'd go." Draco let go of Tempest's wrist, but his glare was quite the same.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me, then?"

"Like you said, we're not as childish as we used to be. I won't keep secrets as you didn't keep them from me." She paused, and sighed. "I only know Severus outside this family, and so I assume that he won't mind me going there."

"You do know you're talking about Snape, right?"

"True. He will mind. But since when have I ever cared for other people's opinion? I'll go there, and I doubt even he will turn out a teenage girl."

"Of course. He'll make you drink all sorts of potions that could possibly kill you, but he believes that a night outside is a step too far."

"I'm glad you know him so well," she said simply, turning again to leave the room. She was not stopped, but Draco followed her nonetheless.

"And how are you expecting to get there, huh? You don't even know how to get there. You can't even Apparate."

"Neither can you, but you get around by your own methods."

"Which are?"

"Utterly different to my methods, of course." She turned to him, staring quizzically. "Can you give me your shoe?"

"My shoe?"

"It was the first thing I thought of." To her surprise Draco took his shoe from his foot and gave it to her, although he didn't have a clue what she wished to with it. She placed it on the floor and muttered a few words under her breath.

"No explanation?"

"I think it will be pretty self explanatory soon enough," she replied nonchalantly. Tempest took hold of her trunk, and then bowed her head. "I suppose…goodbye then."

Tempest saw Draco for only a moment before she grabbed hold of the shoe, and was suddenly pulled from the room by the portkey.

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"Does Lucius know that you are here?" Severus asked, pacing the floor.

"Draco does."

"Then soon enough he will know." Severus stopped pacing, and then sighed irritably, glancing at Tempest who sat quite comfortably watching him. "How can you be so calm?"

"How can you not? He knows I'm not in trouble. I'm sensible enough."

"Until you decided to come here." Tempest laughed out loud.

"Even Severus Snape believes anywhere is better than his own home."

"I would rather I was instead not reverted to when you have a childish spat."

"A spat?" she asked, dumbfounded by the idea of the use of such a word. "It was not even an argument, let alone something as childish as a spat."

"Then what exactly did happen for you to start running off as if you really were that childish?"

"Well, I suppose that seeing as most who I know already knew the secret before I was told, you certainly would. You do, after all, work at Hogwarts, don't you?" Severus wrinkled his nose, and then shuddered slightly. Tempest laughed again at the very sight of his revulsion at the secret's revelation.

"I can certainly say you would have been happier never knowing."

"I'm not denying that at all."

"Who told you?" Tempest paused before answering, scanning Severus's features to see whether a name would result in anger or relief at the knowledge.

"I suppose in some ways, it was Draco."

"In some ways."

"He noted my eyes were the same as Harry Potter's. And I remembered the things that Lord Voldemort- what?" she said, seeing Severus flinch. He looked at her darkly.

"You don't say _his_ name!"

"Well, I don't much care. Draco noted our eyes were the same and I figured it out from what Lord- oh, fine then- _You-Know-Who_ had told me in the cemetery. I suppose you know all about that."

"Dumbledore did spread the word of his return. But matters concerning you are, of course, unknown."

"And I'm glad of it."

Severus began to pace again, his head bent. Tempest noticed that with his hair hiding away his face, she could not tell whether he was thinking or simply pacing. This continued for two or so minutes before finally the silence was broken.

"How foolish can you be to decide to come here? Of all the places in the world?"

"I don't know many places in the world. Just England. And I don't know many people apart from the Malfoys and you."

"Then the option you choose is to stay with the Malfoys."

"But I didn't want to."

"Next time," he hissed, "do not choose what you want, but rather what is necessary."

"Next time?" Tempest asked. "There will be no need for a next time!"

"Of course! The moment Lucius hears about this-"

"You won't tell," she interrupted gently.

"I won't, will I?"

"I don't think you will."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because I'm such a promising student. Because you hate Harry Potter so much you won't mind complaining about him non-stop to me now that you know I know. And also because I can read your face well enough, even if you're too well protected in your mind. So don't try fooling me into thinking you'll send me back there."

"You truly are foolish," Severus seethed, his jaw set firm in anger. "To expect that all to be true."

"I find that I've been quite lucky. Never doubt luck."

"Be that as it may, I more often than not defy luck." Still, he sighed in a way that showed surrender. "I expect not a sound out of turn."

"To the best of my ability."

"And no interruptions."

"I would never dream of it."

"And you will practise whatever lessons I tell you, when I tell you."

"Please, Severus, I am not a child any more. I can follow simple rules."

"Make sure that you do," he said, folding his arms. As if he could think of nothing else to say, Severus turned, but spoke over his shoulder one more time. "I see that you have been practising Occlumency. I haven't been able to see your thoughts sat all this evening. We will work on that again tomorrow."

Tempest nodded, and the sign was clearly seen by Severus before he left. She looked around the room, her nose wrinkled. Tempest let a finger run across the nearest desk, finding a thin layer of dust.

"I'm certainly not cleaning it up," she muttered to herself before retiring to her accommodations.


	15. Chapter 15

_I'm Gothic Lolita  
And you are a criminal  
I'm not even legal  
I'm just a dead little girl  
-Gothic Lolita, Emilie Autumn_

It was the early hours of the morning when both Severus and Tempest awoke the next morning. At least, when the latter had awoken, and Severus had left his room after a night of restless pacing. Of course, any night would be restless with the thoughts that appeared in his head. Appearing again in front of the Dark Lord after so many years. Dumbledore had always believed that he would return, but Severus himself was never quite prepared.

Tempest dressed quickly, but only left her room when she heard steps downstairs. Recent events had made her more curious than she had ever been before in her life, and so without a second thought she left her room in search of Severus. As she suspected, he was in the usual parlour room, hovering about the fireplace, though the fire was not lit. He turned rapidly when Tempest entered the room.

"It's early," he said calmly. "You should go back to bed."

"I could say the same thing about you," she noted in return, sitting in the arm chair without a word. Severus turned back to the fireplace. Quickly, he took his wand out from his robe pocket and pointed it towards the logs. Before he could mutter the enchantment, Tempest set the logs alight.

"This house could do without you being the one to set fire to things."

"I'm not careless."

"You are young, of course you are careless."

"And you're old, what in the name of Merlin could you remember about being young?" She expected to be shouted at, but Severus gave a half-hearted smile either out of true humour, or due to not clearly having listened to her.

It did not escape Tempest's notice the way that Severus's arm twitched every so often.

"So that's why you want me off to bed, then?" she asked musingly.

"Excuse me?"

"Because of Voldemort." Severus shook at both the mention of the Dark Lord's name, and because of the implication behind Tempest's words.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, please, neither of us are true fools. I already had my suspicions, you and Lucius having known each other for so long." Tempest rose and moved towards Severus. "And now, however, I have my proof," she added, grabbing hold of the man's hand and pulling back the sleeve of his robe. There proudly stood the Dark Mark, just as it had on Lucius's skin. Severus snatched it away, covering it again.

"You are far too curious."

"As if I haven't heard that before. Curious, inquisitive, nosey, snooping, meddlesome, there are so many to choose from."

"And each one as fitting as the last."

"But what would I be without it? I certainly would not know as much as I do today. I wouldn't be able to keep my thoughts hidden away if it weren't for being curious, would I?"

"Be that as it may, there is a line to be drawn," he hissed.

"If only there were someone sensible enough to have told me where that line was before I was old enough not to listen to it."

Severus looked as if he were about to speak, but realising there was such sparse time, decided better than to continue the argument.

"I must go," he said finally. "Do whatever you wish, I only ask that nothing is stolen or broken."

"Where are you going?" Tempest asked lightly.

"It is none of your business."

"I did not ask if it was my business or not, I asked where you are going."

"And I simply replied by reminding you that it is not in your place to know." Tempest quickly took hold of Severus's robe sleeve again, and smiled triumphantly.

"Well, now it doesn't matter if you don't tell me, because I'll find out soon enough." Severus attempted to shake the girl off, but she stood firm. He sighed.

"If you speak out of turn, I can not be held responsible for what happens to you."

"Since when has that not been the case?"

Not sure whether to agree or not, Severus nodded. With a quiet enough _crack_ they had disappeared from the parlour, and appeared outside a rather chilly looking house, on an even chillier morning. Tempest quickly brought her robes closer towards her, glad she had dressed with them despite the fact it was summer. The weather was almost unnatural.

It was nothing compared to what waited inside the house.

The moment the two walked through the door, Tempest knew that they had been expected. At least, Severus had been. Tempest was more a surprise than anything, though she could tell that she was a surprise that was not exactly abhorred. In fact, the reactions at her presence were rather…uncouth, to put it in a mild manner. As they walked down the long hallway- it was an extremely large house, more a mansion than anything- a few men stared hungrily.

"Caught yourself one out of your league, Snape," one called from over a banister on the floor above them. Severus ignored the call, but Tempest felt herself blush. She had gathered that this house was almost an asylum for Death Eaters. Some of the faces were recognisable from the graveyard- she had not seen their faces clearly, but they looked similar enough.

After two flights of stairs and one last long corridor, they arrived at a large door. Tempest had long gathered why they were there, but had barely had time to prepare herself for it. Affirming to herself that her mind was indeed closed, she looked towards Severus one last time. To her relief, he seemed calm enough to not have to look at her.

"_Enter_," said a soft, hissing voice from inside the room. The door opened with a creak, but it was barely noticeable. "_Mobilicorpus!_"

With only that word as a warning, Tempest suddenly found herself being lifted from the floor violently and shot across the room. She yelped just before she hit the wall and fell to the floor again with a thud. That same high pitched laughter she had heard those few nights ago echo through the room.

"How wonderful it is," Lord Voldemort said, "to be able to use a wand again. To be able to finally take revenge." He smiled wickedly. "Or, at least, exercise the magic."

"My Lord," Severus said quite coolly. "If I might say, there is no doubt that you still retain all the power you did before."

"I most certainly still retain some of my most faithful servants." Lord Voldemort circled him for a moment, before reaching out and resting the tip of his wand on Severus's cheek. "But are my faithful servants indeed still faithful?"

"That is entirely for you to decide, my Lord, though I do bring news from the Order that might persuade you to my loyalty."

"News?"

"Indeed, my Lord." Severus paused to glance momentarily at Tempest, but then returned his attention. "The Ministry still does not believe in your return, and so Dumbledore's word is very little in the wizarding world. The Daily Prophet, of course, had said this many a time, but the Order's powers are rising because of this."

"Do you bring me just this?"

"No, my Lord. Though the other news is not pleasant, as such. It is Dumbledore's belief that it is in Potter's best interest to remain out of contact with the majority of the wizarding world during the school holidays. So far his friends have been requested to give him the briefest of news, and he has been unable to gain access to newspapers and such."

"What use is this to me?" Voldemort spat, withdrawing his wand.

"Only enough to warn you not to try to attack Potter during these holidays. The bound is still strong, and it would be quite impossible for you to do so."

Tempest looked up from the floor, not having dared to move in case of more attention by Lord Voldemort's wand.

"Well, it seems certain matters must then be decided, I-"

"Might I remind you, my Lord," Severus said pointedly, turning his head towards Tempest. Both the men stared at her, and all of a sudden Lord Voldemort grimaced.

"Leave the room, girl," he hissed. "I shall deal with you later."

Needing not another word of persuasion, Tempest jumped to her feet and half ran, half fell out of the room, closing the door briskly behind her. She could not help but think of that feeling of freedom from the room as one of the best feelings ever to be felt in the world. Of course, that was a feeling to be spoilt in only moments. Curiosity being a rather powerful thing at the time, Tempest could not resist searching the house. It held such strange things that it reminded her of a Muggle 'House of Horrors'. Only these horrors were a little bit more realistic.

Having been used to being watched, Tempest had little problem holding her head high as she walked despite the calls of Death Eaters. A slight smile came upon her lips. She had standards, but she could not help but feel the slightest bliss at the attention. When she thought upon it, she sounded rather pathetic. Yet she had not received much attention in the manner apart from that night at the Malfoy's mansion, though she was not fully conscious at the time.

So who was she to halt the calls, however crude they might be?

The first to confront her was a tall, rather gaunt looking man who did not seem to hide his apple core teeth. It was probably his most prominent feature, if she were forced to choose one. He stepped in front of Tempest in the hallway as she walked, stopping her in her tracks. His over-large robes on his relatively thin frame made it seem as if they were billowing in some imaginary wind.

"You're Snape's gal, ain't ya?"

"Define gal," she muttered in return. There was uproarious laughter from the men surrounding as the gaunt man turned a very light shade of pink and his brow furrowed.

"That supposed to be a joke, girlie? I oughta-"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

In a blast, the man was blown backwards before he could raise his wand. A silence fell upon the crowd as he fell into several other men, but the uproar of laughter soon started again. Tempest revelled in the sound of it, refusing to take her eyes off the man who rubbed the back of his head irritably.

"You bitch," he murmured.

"Testing the girl that attacked you," she said simply. "How brave of you."

With that, he turned around and left the corridor out of sight. Tempest folded her arms, smiling slightly. Her head turned ever so slightly to see the few that were left staring at her with the slightest admiration- only the slightest, though.

"Impressive," said one man, his dark eyes shining in the dim light. "Very impressive."

"As I've gathered."

"Your manners could do with improvement, though."

"Not that any of us need them here," Tempest retorted, tilting her head to look at the man. "You seem to have done well enough without them."

The man sniggered, but didn't say another word. Words weren't exactly needed as they dragged themselves into the closest room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What were you thinking?" Severus asked, his voice low and slightly shaking. "What in the name of Merlin were you thinking?"

"I know you think I wasn't thinking, Severus."

"I am obviously right! You could not have been thinking at all, if you had any sense!"

"But it isn't a matter of sense!" Tempest cried in irritation. "It's a matter of what I do and do not do, and I did it."

"You make it seem something to be _proud_ of, you foolish little girl."

"Must it be a matter of pride?" she asked. "I might feel no pride at all and still feel no shame."

"Then you should feel it! Have you no shame? Think of what your father- think of what your _mother would think_!"

"She's not here, though, is she?" Tempest shrieked, her patience wearing quickly. Her cheeks flushed a violent shade of red, and Severus froze immediately at listening to her. "She's not here, and nor is my father, as you well know!" Severus gritted his teeth before continuing.

"I know just as well as you do," he said in a steady voice. "But did you ever think that perhaps they would not wish you to waste away your life?"

"You have no right to teach me these lessons, I should think, Severus. You serve to murder, it isn't what I would call the best of lives."

"At least I have standards in the manner I live that life," he said, almost hissing the words.

"What good are standards when you waste them?" Tempest uttered a sound of disgust before turning to leave the room. She could tell that Severus was not done in lecturing her, but she did not care an ounce, and decided to ignore him.

Before she left, though, she glared at him one last time, her now dark green eyes blazing.

"If you ever dare try to lecture me again, I expect it to be about more important manners than sex. I know what you've done, and I know what you stand for. Be glad I don't think less of you."


	16. Chapter 16

_And if you ask me how I know  
What she looks like I will tell you,  
"She left yesterday."  
- Ravens Land, Voltaire_

There were very few times that Severus Snape would meet an enemy willingly. In fact, he could not recall a time where he ever did such a thing. Yet sometimes, it could be required. And in his own opinion, it had become finally required.

Tempest didn't think much of leaving the house again. She expected that it was a matter with the Death Eaters as it was before, and so spoke not a word before or after they Apparated. It was only a few minutes after Apparating that Tempest realised something was wrong.

"This isn't where we went before," she noted.

"Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me." Tempest looked up bitterly at Severus, simply staring at him darkly.

They came to a long street of terraced houses, not unlike Spinner's End in Tempest's opinion, but much less dank and dark in its appearance despite the time of the morning. Although both of their faces were turned forward, concentrating on the path ahead, Tempest could not help but allow her eyes to dart about in an almost manic manner. She had been to so few places in the world, and even new streets excited her to a point that would have been embarrassing to anyone else.

It was mutually, and silently, decided that neither would say anything after the short conversation previously carried out until they reached their destination, which was still quite a mystery to Tempest. A few other people walked the streets, Muggles by the looks of the street, but as it was still early morning they were mostly walking briskly with a carton of milk, or some other petty item.

Soon enough they came to a house of no particular significance from the outside. It looked just like every other house on the street, but Severus still stopped outside it. Tempest looked at him again, her brow furrowed. Without even looking at her, Severus carried on through the gate. He knocked thrice upon the door, and before a response could come he quickly muttered to Tempest:

"Pull up the hood of your cloak. And don't speak a word until I say."

Confused, but at the same time tired enough to obey the command, Tempest pulled her hood over her head, covering most of her face. Not a moment later, the door opened, and a portly woman with flaming red hair answered the door, brandishing a mop.

"Severus!" she said, slightly alarmed. "You know there aren't any meetings today!"

"I do, but I have private matters to discuss with Sirius."

"To discuss? I haven't brought up my boys without being able to know when a fight's coming up."

"Then it is best you let us in now to get it over with." At the word 'us', the woman looked over Severus's shoulder to see Tempest- she was already curious, but the girl's hidden face made her all the more strange.

"Any explanations?"

"No, I don't think so Molly." The woman reluctantly moved aside to allow the two guests through into the house.

"He's upstairs somewhere. And if I were you, I'd give up now rather than trying to talk to him." Ignoring this, Severus went towards the stairs, Tempest following closely. She assumed quite rightly that she was to keep her hood up. There were three flights of stairs, although they only had to walk to the second floor before footsteps could be heard, alongside voices.

"Where did you send Pigwidgeon, you two? Where did you send him!"

"It's not our fault you don't lock your door, Ron," said one voice in return.

"Or barricade your window," said another.

"Or protect your room-"

"From other beastly charms-"

"Or beastly brothers-"

"Or general misshapenness."

"You bloody twits!" the original voice shouted, and the footsteps became faster.

"You'll have to catch us first," the two voices said in unison, and a large cracking sound echoed through the corridor. Tempest looked towards Severus, whose nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Weasleys," he muttered, as if it explained everything. As he said this Tempest opened her eyes wide to see a strange creature trotting down the hallway towards the commotion. She knew it to be a dog, but she had never seen one look so spindly and tall before. As if it had been starved for some time and was only just regaining health.

The dog looked happy enough with itself- or, at least, as much as a dog could look happy with itself- until it crossed the two guests, at which point it stopped and looked at Severus. A low growl emitted from its throat.

"I can't say I'm much more pleased to see you, Black," he said in return to the dog's growl, and then turned his head to Tempest. "Take off your cloak."

Tempest hesitated before gently taking her cloak away from her shoulders, her features fully exposed. If it were even possible, she could have sworn the dog looked surprised. With a quick movement, it took hold of the sleeve of her robe in its mouth and pulled her back down the hallway eagerly.

"Severus!" she said, alarmed, over her shoulder. He was following the two, an air of boredom about him. The dog guided them into a spare room, after which Severus closed the door and lit the room's candles with a wave of his wand. The dog unleashed Tempest's robes and, wasting no time at all, stood on its hind legs to become

"Sirius Black!" Tempest choked, startled at the sight of the wizard in front. He stood, swaying slightly, and then all of a sudden came to his knees and embraced the child.

"Merlin, it's really you, isn't it? Tempest! I never imagined-" Sirius Black stopped to hold her at arms length by the shoulders, staring intently at her, going over each feature. "Almost identical! As if looking at Lily herself!"

Sirius looked up, remembering Severus's presence, and stood quickly.

"So she left her with you?"

"If you're referring to Bellatrix, no. Tempest was with he Malfoys until the beginning of the summer."

"Bellatrix?" Both men looked at Tempest who had spoken quite quietly. Her eyes looked from one to the other. "You said something about her, didn't you?"

"You know her?" Severus asked.

"Narcissa mentioned about her a few times, but it was just a name."

"So you have no idea who she is?" asked Sirius. Tempest simply shook her head. After a pause made of no more than a few seconds, Sirius started to laugh riotously. "You don't, do you? Ha! And she made such a fuss, all that time!"

"What are you-"

"Wait," Sirius said, as if a sudden thought had come to mind. He turned to Severus. "She was with the Malfoys _until_ the beginning of summer?"

"That's what I said."

"Then where is she now?"

"I'm living with Severus," Tempest answered quite plainly. Sirius seemed at first to pause with an air of thought. Soon, though, that air began to become much stranger, much angrier.

"After Lily?" Sirius muttered, directing himself towards Severus. "You're looking after her after what you did to Lily?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Black."

"Of course you do! You weren't exactly subtle."

Severus wrinkled his nose, but ignored the comment. Sirius turned back to Tempest, his expression back to that of a doting friend. Tempest herself could not return the look. Even now she still hadn't a clue why she was there, or who he was. She looked glancingly at the hand on her shoulder, and then back into the eyes of the man in front of her.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but why exactly am I here?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"She knows much more than you think, Black," Severus said. "It happens to be why she is no longer with the Malfoys."

"How much do you know, then?" Sirius asked.

"That depends," Tempest said slowly. "About the Potters or magic on a whole?"

"The Potters."

"Only as much as Harry Potter." Sirius paused, and decided to humour her.

"And magic on a whole."

"Oh, well, everything, I guess." Sirius laughed, but upon seeing the grave look on Severus's face, supposed that it was not the joke he thought it was intended to be. Deciding not to press on the matter, he shook his head disbelievingly.

"How long will you be staying for, then?" he asked somewhat eagerly. Tempest's eyes darted towards Severus and then back.

"I didn't think I was staying at all."

"Of course you are! I wouldn't dream of it any other way."

"Then try another dream, Black." Both Sirius and Tempest looked at Severus, who had spoken quite firmly. Tempest could not help but be amused. He often attempted to be rid of her.

"What are you talking about, Snivellus?"

"Snivellus?" Tempest echoed with a slight snort of laughter. "Charming, I don't know why you don't use it more often Severus." Ignoring the comment, Severus continued.

"Though I would love more than anyone to have her gone into the hands of people whose responsibility it is to care for her, I obviously can not have that pleasure. According to the Ministry, she doesn't exist."

"But that's impossible," Sirius stated.

"Not at all. She is no different than Hogwarts at this very moment. She can not be traced."

"Your doing, I suppose?"

"Entirely."

"Then perhaps you shouldn't be so proud," growled Sirius, not even bothering to wait before drawing his wand. Severus stood quite calmly, a smirk appearing on his lips.

"You wouldn't dare curse me with Tempest here, I know that for a fact."

"Mug like yours, I'm sure she's seen worse."

"Would you like to risk that?" Although Severus was in no way armed, Sirius still wavered and, finally, put down his wand. "I did not come here to fight you, Black, I came for your own pathetic benefit. Although she can not be traced, the spell could just as easily be reversed."

"She has a name, Severus," Tempest muttered, but she was ignored.

"If you want her, all we need do is request it of Dumbledore, and I have never heard him say no to a Potter."

"And when did you decide all this?"

"Not very long ago," he replied simply, though the significant glance he cast towards Tempest told her everything she needed to know.

"Well, it's a good enough plan, I suppose," Sirius said, attempting a cool air, but failing miserably in his excitement.

"Yes, it is," Tempest agreed musingly. "Except for one thing. I'm not going."

Severus looked at her bitterly as Sirius took hold of her by the shoulders again, shaking her slightly.

"Of course you are! It's how your parents would have wanted it!"

"And what about what I want? I don't even know who you are."

"Fine then, I'll tell you! Sirius Black, your godfather, your father's adoptive brother, your mother's friend!"

"So?" Tempest asked simply, shaking his hands off of her. "What's that supposed to mean to me?"

"Plenty enough!" It was at this point that Sirius realised the level and ferocity of his voice, causing him to recoil slightly. He shook his head. "Instead of concentrating on why you shouldn't, how about concentrating on why you should?"

"For once the mutt's right, Tempest," Severus said calmly.

"I don't care who's right," she replied. "I'm staying with you."

"Oh, how proud Lily would be of you," Sirius said resentfully, folding his arms and becoming quite stern all of a sudden. Tempest blinked, quite surprised, but smiled reassuringly.

"I'll write," she said cheerfully, in a way to cause both men to arch their eyebrows in a pitying manner.

"No chance," Sirius said sullenly. "Owls are intercepted more and more often nowadays."

"Then I'll visit," she replied, as if it were obvious. Sirius bit his lip as Severus laughed slightly.

"I daresay you'd be lucky to leave the house without detection," Severus said.

"What does it matter if I am detected?"

"Why can you not simply remain here?" Severus asked, his cool tone wavering.

"And why are you the one forcing her to stay?" Sirius asked, seemingly past his brooding stage. He placed a hand on Tempest's shoulder. "If you do not wish to stay, I won't judge you. We're strangers, after all. I only wish you'd chosen someone other than Snivellus to stay with."

"Out of all the twits I know, he's the lesser of the evils." Sirius could not help but laugh, despite Tempest's serious tone.

"And you wanted to get rid of her," said Sirius.

"I'm not her godfather, she isn't my responsibility."

"As the French would say, _c'est la vie! _I expect you to be careful, Tempest," Sirius added warningly, but with a smile. "As I always say, never trust a man with skulls on his skin." He looked pointedly at Severus, at which point the latter turned briskly and left the room without a word.

"Is that supposed to be significant or something?" Tempest asked quietly.

"Well, you know he's one those type of men. Even though Dumbledore trusts him, I wouldn't put my money on him being on our side yet. No one ever fully comes back on our side. Snape knows where his loyalties lie and they've never changed."

"How would you know where his loyalties lie?"

"Simple, I-" Sirius paused, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I've always been a firm believer in _innocent until proven guilty_," she replied calmly.

"How about _better safe than sorry_?" He sighed. "I suppose you would like him well, you've known him long enough."

"That doesn't have anything to do with it. I've known Narcissa Malfoy all my life and I don't like her a bit."

"Not a fan of the Malfoys?" he asked with a smile.

"Only her."

Sirius laughed, and with that, the conversation deepened and lengthened. They both forgot about the Potions Master that waited outside the door, leaving the two to themselves. Although they continued the conversation, they spoke of little apart from Tempest's childhood. The subject of wandless magic did come up and, for Sirius's entertainment, Tempest made a few bubbles appear from her fingertips as they would appear from a wand.

"Oh, and Sirius," Tempest called over her shoulder after Severus finally grew weary of waiting and came to fetch her. "Don't tell Harry."

**A/N- **I've started reading _My Immortal_, the worst fanfiction ever written. I would just like to thank you all for affirming that I'm not as bad as that :D


	17. Chapter 17

_I said hey, girl with one eye  
I'll cut your little heart out  
Cause you made me cry  
- Girl With One Eye, Florence and the Machine_

It wasn't until midway through the summer when the nightmares started. They barely effected her on the first night. Nightmares were a common enough thing in the world and she was never one for arguing with the natural order of things. It was when the nightmares began appearing every night that she began to become frightened. Tempest recognised the scene and knew what the nightmare was, but did not know why it scared her. She remembered that night in the graveyard extremely well, and even at the time she had not been as frightened as she was in her sleep. It wasn't the men there that scared her, nor was it Voldemort himself.

It was the boy who died right in front of her.

Tempest could not help but wonder why she saw the boy die. All she remembered was hiding and seeing his body beside her. She did not press on this matter in her mind, and instead concentrated on absolutely anything else that might lessen the nightmares. They still came, though. She noticed they became worse and worse over the weeks, having woken up most nights screaming. Tempest knew very well that Severus had heard her on these nights by the way he stared warily the morning afterwards. Still, she held her head high so as not to allow him to notice her post-nightmare fear.

Severus was often away, having decided not to bring Tempest to meetings with the Death Eaters until Voldemort trusted her to a point to enter the gatherings. Tempest knew this, but didn't have much of an idea how he was to trust her without meeting her. She promised to behave properly, but Severus refused to believe her. In her honest opinion, Tempest believed him quite right for not trusting her with the matter, despite the truth in her words.

When meetings did not take place, a lesson often did. Tempest was quite adamant on not taking any more Potions lessons, as she knew them well enough and refused to believe there was any use in learning anything else. So, Severus taught her the spells he deemed required. Of course, not all of these lessons were agreed on, but Tempest held her tongue long enough to please her tutor as much as she had for Lucius.

"I hadn't thought Lucius had taught you this much," Severus said in a tone of the smallest amusement, causing Tempest to smile. It wasn't often the tone was used.

"Lucius didn't teach me it," Tempest replied after the shattered glass shot back up into the form of a cat. She giggled after a thought. "You leave me far too many opportunities to gloat, Severus."

"Then refuse the opportunity," he said simply, closing the text book that was used for the lesson and swiftly tucking it away on the bookshelf where it had come from. Tempest watched as he looked through the books silently, watching for so long that it made her jump slightly when he turned back, holding a rather thick book. She winced.

"Must I read another book? I honestly have no idea where you're getting them from."

"I have my sources," Severus replied, handing her the book. "Chapters twelve through to twenty nine."

"But this is more a death sentence than a chapter," she said in awe, flipping through the pages. "Is this even a normal book? I just saw that word change."

"It corrects itself," he explained in a rather bored tone, as if he'd explained far too many times before. "Spelling, grammar and information, depending on if information needs correcting."

"Then how am I supposed to read it if it keeps changing?"

"By reviewing over it." Tempest pulled a face at the very thought, but nodded and lay the book on her lap.

"I refuse to start now."

"I don't blame you. If I were in your position I wouldn't read it at all."

"But you're still going to make me read it?"

"Of course. I would never have such a forceful teacher." Tempest smiled slightly, staring at the book. Yet again the words were changing. It had started to become quite humorous by this point.

"You could always begin next week," Severus continued musingly. "From what I've heard you do little else but read with the Malfoys."

"I still don't get why I have to go back. I'm perfectly fine staying here."

"More often than not I don't trust you with wizards, so why would I trust you with Muggles?"

"Fair enough," she admitted. "I just don't see why you couldn't have found someone else."

"I wouldn't trust you with anyone else, really."

Tempest nodded, but sighed pityingly. It had been discussed a few weeks prior to the conversation that Severus would return to Hogwarts a week early as was required of him due to his career. Tempest was disallowed the freedom of living alone for the year, and so was forced to live with the Malfoys until the next summer. It did not trouble her much; she had lived long enough without them to be able to survive another eleven or so months.

"What am I exactly going to be learning from this book?" Tempest asked lightly.

"I'm sure Lucius will be able to test you quite well on it."

"And what if I don't tell him to test me?"

"You will," Severus said plainly enough.

"You think?"

"I know. You've never been one for skipping out a lesson."

"Have we been reading minds again, Severus?"

"Actually, you seem to have been practising well enough by yourself. I'd say it's practically impossible to get in that head."

"Which might explain some things," she said musingly with a soft smile. She looked down again at the book curiously, flipping casually through the pages as Severus paused to watch her momentarily.

"What exactly does it explain?"

"Well, kind of why I'm not dead."

"How is that explained?"

"I shouldn't think that I'd still be alive with some of the things I've thought. About Voldemort." Severus flinched at the name, but did not say anything against the use of it. He had long grown used to it.

"And what makes you think that you would be killed? Or worse yet, that I will tell him myself?"

"Because you won't," she said after a moment's thought.

"I won't, will I?"

"Severus, if you were to sell me out now, you would have lost your protégée. I know you wouldn't do that."

"Fair enough," he admitted with a twist to his lips. "I have very few to none at Hogwarts."

"Exactly." Tempest laughed to herself once before snapping the book closed. "It's absolute nonsense, you know. I'll never finish the chapters."

"Oh yes you will," Severus said in return. "You'll finish the book most likely as well." Tempest smiled, shaking her head.

"I didn't think we taught Divination in this house."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Narcissa seemed to have spent a long enough time without Tempest that her temper had calmed, and she was able to survive under the same roof with her under certain conditions; they were not to speak nor be in the room for anything more than a meal. On the other hand, Draco had learnt to come to an understanding with Tempest, and the two discarded previous fights. Not that they had become friends, of course. Instead, it was more a realisation that in Voldemort's return, they were together in the fact that they knew only as much as the other.

Lucius had agreed with Tempest that her lessons were cancelled, her having learnt plenty enough by herself and with the will to learn anything else she may require. For the last week of the summer, Tempest mostly sat in her old room to read. The book that Severus had given her as a form of homework certainly was difficult. She only realised three chapters in that the book was based on forms of Dark Magic, the spells to be cautious of and the spells to protect oneself. Even though she doubted she would ever be able to learn the spells from the book, she realised with a smile that it was Severus's way of teaching her without being there. Get her curious enough to learn the spells herself.

"I'm pretty sure that's cheating," Tempest muttered to herself upon realising this, turning another leaf of the book.

"What's cheating?" asked a voice at the door. Tempest looked up, and laughed, shaking her head.

"Didn't anyone teach you it was rude to interrupt, Draco?"

"Of course," he replied. "But the door was open."

"Fair enough, I'd take the chance."Draco entered the room, accepting the idea that he was allowed into the room and sat heavily on the end of the bed.

"So what's the cheating?" he asked again.

"This book," she replied with a slight sour tone. "Severus tricked me into teaching myself."

"A professor trying to get a pupil to learn. When will the indecency stop?"

"Draco being sarcastic, the world is coming to an end!"

"Point taken," Draco said, smirking. "He's always one for mind games, you know. There's this fat little kid in our Potions classes, Longbottom, and Severus is constantly teasing him. Not childishly, of course, but just all these glances that send Longbottom into tears."

"Poor thing," Tempest said gently, ignoring Draco's laughter. "I almost forget he's your professor, you know. I never see either of you at Hogwarts."

"Be glad of it. Some of the idiots you get around there."

"You never did make friends very well, I suppose this is why."

"I have standards when it comes to those I associate with." Tempest nodded, closing the book and dropping it to the floor with an exasperated sigh.

"I really can't bother with that any more," she said, shaking her head. She paused, and the silence allowed her enough time to wonder. "Tell me what he's like at Hogwarts."

"What, Severus? He's alright, I guess, he usually just kind of leaves us alone to-"

"No," Tempest interrupted, smiling half-heartedly. "I don't mean him."

"Who?"

She paused again, and tilted her head to watch Draco for a moment, a small smile still on her lips.

"Harry Potter."

"He's not that interesting," Draco said automatically, frowning. "Why'd you want to know about him, anyway?"

"What do you think? Seriously, what's he like."

"Like I said, not that interesting. Not by our standards anyway."

"What about by my standards?" Draco wrinkled his nose distastefully.

"How am I supposed to know? He's a boring moron in my opinion. Far too curious about what doesn't concern him. Happy now?"

"Not at all," Tempest admitted, but did not press the matter. Sighing, she took hold of her pillow and clutched it, suddenly feeling a boredom that she was sure was practically nightmarish. "Was there any other reason you came, Draco?" she asked.

"No. I just came down the hallway and heard you talking to yourself. It's not a good sign, you know."

"I've heard."

The tapping of footsteps could be heard down the hallway and both Draco and Tempest turned to stare at the door. As if on cue, Lucius appeared at the doorway and knocked once.

"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" he asked slowly.

"Would it matter if you were?" Tempest asked in return.

"Of course not, but it is still polite to ask." Lucius turned his head slightly towards Draco. "I have to speak to Tempest," he said simply, causing Draco to scowl.

"You can speak while he's here, Lucius. What is it?" Lucius sighed, and paused- if Tempest hadn't known better, she would have thought he was trying to be over dramatic.

"_He_ needs to speak to you."


	18. Chapter 18

_I'm not a little girl now  
__I'll show you that I know how  
__I'll show you how I can be  
__You think that I am so pure  
__I tell you don't be so sure  
__I can be wild and free  
__- My Heart If You Will Swear, Notre Dame de Paris Opera_

Despite Tempest's constant questions and attempts, Lucius refused to tell her why she was summoned. If he was honest, he could not tell her a single thing. He did not know. Of course, he had his theories, each one of them not as pleasant as he could wish. Nothing pleasant ever happened when the Dark Lord requested someone personally. He did not mention the fact, knowing full well the power of Tempest's temper when she put her mind to it.

They walked briskly after Apparating, silent after Tempest's questions, both wondering and waiting. No one was standing in the hallways. All Death Eaters had disappeared to Tempest's knowledge at that point. Lucius himself knew where they were, but decided to allow Tempest to think what she wanted. He was not utterly sure whether or not the Dark Lord wanted her to know, and decided it best not to say anything, just in case.

The corridor seemed longer somehow, whether it was because of their silence or because of the echoing that surrounded them. Finally, they appeared at a set of heavy wooden doors at the end of the corridor on the third floor. Tempest recognised the doors rather well, keeping calm despite what she knew was behind them.

Closing her eyes, Tempest reminded herself that her mind was still closed. She disallowed herself any fear, or any thought on the man on the other side of the door. The doors opened without any movement from either Tempest or Lucius, and the latter took a confident enough step forward. Forgetting herself, Tempest followed, cursing herself inwardly. She looked up from the ground to see herself surrounded. Not in a manner where she felt herself in any danger, but she could feel the eyes of every man in the room upon her. They were not lustful as much as they were greedy at this point. For what, she did not know, but she knew that she was not scared. There was of course reason to be frightened, but she was not.

"Lucius," said a soft voice from further up the room. "Bring her forward."

Obeying the order, Lucius took hold of her upper arm and pulled her forward. She noted that less force was used than it must have seemed to everyone else. Lucius let go of her as they stopped before Lord Voldemort, backing away quickly to sidelines where the other Death Eaters waited. Tempest's eyes followed him for a moment before she returned snappily to Voldemort.

Then there was silence.

The Dark Lord surveyed her for a while, rising from his chair and towering above her on the platform the chair stood on. Determined, Tempest stared up into his red eyes, waiting to be punished for it. It did not come, and so she continued to stare. Hypnotised.

"I don't know whether I should praise you," he said softly- lulling in some manner. "You've closed your mind surprisingly well. I suppose you were tutored?"

"By Severus Snape," she confirmed, her voice wavering slightly. She could have sworn that the man's thin lips curled up in a twisted smirk, and was sure it was the fear that caused it rather than the information.

"He has done well," he continued. "Too well, perhaps. For what reason is he teaching a girl how to protect her mind?"

"I asked for it," Tempest replied simply. "He finally complied."

There was yet again silence before Tempest heard once more that high pitched cackle that she suspected Voldemort called laughter.

"I can not say I am surprised," he said, holding his wand lazily between his fingers. Tempest broke her gaze to stare at it, wondering briefly whether it was to be used on her. "Like most men, he has his weaknesses."

Laughter rippled through the 'audience', and Tempest suspected a joke she did not know about. Still, she tilted her head slightly higher, as if to show she did not care. Lord Voldemort emitted a type of hissing noise of disgust.

"I should warn you not to be so proud," he hissed cruelly. "Be glad I will not punish you for it now." The Dark Lord moved forward, and began circling the young girl, watching her carefully. Studying her. Tempest stared forward, determined not be frightened by the way his eyes burned into her. It was so painful to feel that she was certain it was being done purposefully.

"Why have I been summoned here?" she asked after the silence became far too overwhelming. Voldemort stopped, at last not surveying her, but instead simply standing there.

"You have proved yourself powerful," he said after a while. "Far too powerful, in my opinion. I would often only pay any interest in a witch or wizard with a wand, but it seems you have no need for one. Why is that?"

"I never got one," Tempest answered simply. "I learnt well enough without."

"Exactly my point. You learn far too much in such little time. Were I a different man I would find this to my advantage. Of course, I am therefore to stop you learning more than I see fit." There was a pause in which Tempest had a thousand questions to ask, but did not speak them. "If I am able to see the skills you possess, I am certain enough that I will be able to mould them."

"Mould them?"

"Use them to my advantage," he admitted proudly enough. At least, as proud as he could sound. Tempest had noticed quite a while ago there was little emotion to be shown in the way Lord Voldemort spoke. There was only anger and bitter delight in some cases.

"Might I ask how you plan to do so?"

The Dark Lord pulled a disgusted face, and made an irritable noise to match. His wand moved threateningly, though not enough for Tempest to believe it was to be used on her now.

"You may not," he said irately, turning with a swirl of his robes. He moved again to his platform, and waited while watching Tempest again. "I don't believe you've shown the respect that I command and deserve."

Tempest remained silent, and fleetingly her mind tried to force her to bow her head in shame. _I owe him nothing_, she told herself to halt the thought. _He deserves nothing_.

"I demand it now," he continued, raising his chin slightly to look down upon her. "Bow to me."

Silence.

"I said bow to me."

Swallowing thickly, Tempest's mouth opened, but she could not speak. Finally, she managed to croak the word 'no'. The intake of breath could almost be heard in the room.

"No?"

Now, Tempest knew many spells. She had learnt almost everything that there was to know when it comes to a wand in the wizarding world. She had come close to inventing some of her own, though gave up the projects when she tired of them. This meant that the split second in between Voldemort speaking the word _Imperio_ and the effects of the spell taking place, she knew exactly what was to happen, and she certainly did not like it.

"Now, bow to me," Voldemort said firmly, and as soon as it was said, it was done. Tempest sighed, feeling a rush of relief. She didn't even have to make the decision, it just came simply to her. The feeling was one of indescribable release of choice. And yet something in her mind screamed out, screeching for it to stop. It almost made the relief unworthy of the pain it caused.

"See, now?" he taunted. "That wasn't so hard, was it? You could learn from this experience."

Tempest gritted her teeth, knowing full well she was not to answer. She raised her head ever so slightly to look her tormentor in the eye, though her head was quickly snapped down again by Voldemort's demand. He tutted tauntingly.

"When you are under my command, you follow my orders," he said slowly. "And nothing but my orders. Be happy that I have at least spared you any humiliation thus far." He flicked his wand swiftly, and Tempest felt herself go slack, free enough to stand without bowing. She stood proudly, her eyes blazing with a hidden anger. The Dark Lord laughed his usual high pitched, cold laugh.

"Is this what you summoned me here for?" Tempest asked bitterly, glaring.

"Not at all," he said lightly- at least, somewhat- while twitching his wand gently. "Not at all. In fact, you should be very honest, child. What you have been brought here for today is far more than an offer. It is a gift."

"No banners and boxes," Tempest said musingly, almost forgetting the company she was with. She had fully forgotten the others staring at her at that moment in time.

"I have little time for jokes, little to none," the Dark Lord said sternly. On a normal man, it would have been barked with a twisted tone. On this one, it was much worse. "No, I have a gift more in the manner of…an invitation. You have shown great power, and from what I have heard from our dear friend Severus, you are a worthy advocate."

"Advocate?" she asked weakly.

"Of course. I did have my doubts, considering your background. Considering your heritage. But you know what they say. When you fight fire with fire, you get burned."

"I'd rather not be burned."

"You would be the fire, child. And do trust me," he said, laughing under his breath. "I have not been burnt in such a long time that I believe I am immune to such forces."

"What do you mean fight fire with fire?" Tempest asked, still vaguely confused. The quiet laughter erupted again into a fit of ill sounded laughter.

"Fire against fire, isn't it obvious? Potter against Potter! What better to defeat rock than a stronger rock? And child, you seem to be the far more powerful of the siblings. I am only glad that I spared at least one," he added gloatingly. "The one who would eventually fall back into the puzzle."

"And what if I don't want to be a puzzle piece?"

"Then you can easily be disposed of."

Tempest paused momentarily, not quite sure what to make of the threat of death. More often than not, a person has been threatened with death by the age of fifteen. Whether it be a sibling in a fit of rage who childishly claims they shall kill another, or a harmless remark at a drunken dinner party. It is rare, though, that a person in their whole life will experience a true threat.

"You are to become a servant, child. Bear your arm."

The instruction was so simple that it almost made Tempest start.

"Excuse me?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Bear your arm," the Dark Lord repeated sternly, poising his wand. "Do not seem so frightened. This is an honour I don't hand out to everyone. Be glad you are worthy."

_I'm not worthy,_ she screamed to herself. _I don't want to be worthy!_

"I think there has been a mistake," Tempest said wearily, her gaze dropping slowly.

"I think not. You have been residing with the Malfoys, and as such you are a servant with or without my Mark," he said, his eyes seeming to turn redder. "Lucius has already told me that you would be trustworthy for us, and Severus has told me that you are intelligent to say the least."

"What if they were wrong?"

Ignoring her, Lord Voldemort continued, moving towards her again with slow deliberation.

"I order you to bear your arm!" Tempest refused to answer, and within a few seconds, Voldemort pointed his wand directly towards her. "_Imperio!_"

Her arm shot out in front of her, her sleeve hitched up far enough to show her arm.

"I want to decline," she said hastily, summoning enough energy to speak against the spell, even if she was not strong enough to do so physically.

"You have little choice," Voldemort replied, pressing his wand to her wrist. She winced, tensing.

The image started to form on her arm from where the wand was pressed. It was as if ink were spilling from it in a strange pattern. A strange stinging sensation accompanied the image, concentrating itself on her arm. Within a few seconds, it was over. The moment the Imperius Curse was lifted from her, she fell to her knees, light headed.

Tempest whimpered quietly, clinging her arm gently. She could see through her hair, which hid her face messily, that the Dark Lord was watching her and sneering.

"You disgust me," he murmured. Everyone was allowed to disperse.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_An extremely thin dog wagged its tale wistfully, sensing what was to come. For weeks now, she had seen him eat a minimal amount, constantly remaining as a dog. He never looked at her, concentrating on something else. But now his endeavours were to be rewarded. The guards came to open the gate to give him food, as they had for everyone else. Both of them knew the guards were coming as there had been screams and cries becoming louder._

_As soon as the opportunity came, he ran. He darted quickly, down the halls and out of sight. She darted to the bars of her door, gripping them tightly, screaming._

"_I hate you!" she screamed hoarsely, her voice louder than it had been in years. "Get back here! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"_

Bellatrix woke up, screaming in her sleep. It had been more than two years now. She didn't know what month it was, but she was certain it had been two years. Time didn't really mean anything any more. All she knew was that there was reason in this time. There was something at the end of this time.

_He was back._

The Mark had been stinging and growing stronger. He was back, and he would come for her soon. He would come for all of them. Who knew? Maybe Tempest was right there, already fighting for him. Already fighting _with_ him. All that mattered was that she was certain now more than ever that she would be rewarded. She would leave Azkaban and receive what she deserved.

It was then that the storm came.

**A/N-** I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter, and I'm sorry the last bit with Bellatrix is so short. But hey, she's back :D


	19. Chapter 19

_A quick taste of the poison, a quick twist of the knife  
When the obsession with death  
The obsession with death becomes a way of life  
- Dead Is The New Alive, Emilie Autumn_

Most of the time through those months, all Tempest wished to do was sit alone in her room. She had been tempted once or twice to contact either Draco or Severus, someone from outside her reach, but there had been heightened restrictions lately, and more and more owls were being intercepted. Tempest knew enough sense that it was best she still remained unknown, and therefore was disallowed the freedom of letters.

There were things to be done, though. Once a week a meeting was held between Death Eaters, where information would be collected and used to the point where Tempest was sure it was a learning experience rather than a plot. She was not required to do many things. For the time being, she had not only been put under Lucius's care for a roof over her head, but he was also required to be her guide on the different 'missions' that they were sent on- these missions mainly included patrolling certain grounds, or two trace the whereabouts of some so-called blood traitor or mud blood. It goes without saying that Tempest grew easily weary of them.

It was not the time of the missions, nor the missions themselves that made Tempest quite sick of them. It was the fact that she had little choice apart from death, an option that she did not like to take into consideration. Of course, she held little respect for the ideals of the organisation she was forced into, but concentrated more on the fact that she had indeed been forced into it.

"You can't mope around like this forever, you know," said a voice at the bedroom door. Tempest looked up, glaring.

"The door was closed, Lucius," she spat.

"I've been advised to ignore your door freely," he replied nonchalantly. "Quite rightly, I think."

"Not at all rightly! And advised by who?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Lucius asked tiredly. Tempest paused, and then looked down again at her arm.

"I hate him," she murmured.

"It's not a surprise. Though I must say, you have the habit of detesting everyone you meet."

"That isn't true. I did not detest you until a few months ago. I do not detest Severus to my knowledge, and certainly not Draco."

"_Certainly_ not Draco?"

Tempest cast him a withering glance.

"Do not think I love him, let alone that I am _in_ love with him. You can enjoy someone's company, you know."

"I find that very hard to believe," he said, but it seemed he wasn't at all serious. Tempest sat quietly, her knees tucked under her chin as she slowly wrapped her arms around herself. It was one of the first times in quite a while that she had stopped looking at the Mark.

"I don't hate everyone," she murmured, partly to herself. "I can like people, there's just…no one around _to_ like."

Lucius was silent, quite unsure of what to say. _This is why I had a son,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head. He never had been the most sensitive of people.

"Why do I have to think that?" she wondered aloud, staring up at Lucius, who seemed too forward a character at that moment in time for most people to reveal their troubles.

"I know less of your thoughts than anyone, I daresay. I wouldn't ask me if I were you."

"I didn't expect you to know what to say," Tempest said musingly.

"Then why ask?"

"Private lamenting," she replied with a small smile. "You just happened to be here."

She suddenly hissed, clinging her arm. Even by this point she hadn't gotten used to the stinging sensation that accompanied the strengthening of the Mark.

"Strange," Lucius mused as he stared at his own Mark. "Meetings aren't usually until Thursday."

"Didn't you read the Daily Prophet?" Tempest asked curiously.

"You stole it."

"Ah, yes. Well, it's the convicts, isn't it? The ones that got out of Azkaban, last night."

"For Merlin's sake!" Lucius said irritably, rising to his feet quickly and summoning his cloak, which flew quite speedily through the door. "And you never bothered to tell me?"

"Silly me," she said sarcastically as she grabbed her own cloak from the foot of her bed. "There's me thinking that a fifteen year old girl couldn't stop you from reading a bloody newspaper!"

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None of the Death Eaters Apparated outside the house. Everyone automatically collected into a large dark hall similar to a dining room, without a table. Lord Voldemort sat in a high backed chair at the north end of the room, while everyone Apparated at the outskirts, hovering by the walls. It seemed strange how empty the place seemed, considering the people that entered not long afterwards.

As the last person appeared, everyone looked up to their master, waiting with bated breath. The Dark Lord paused before he decided to break the silence, to ease his servants' curiosity. Slowly, to the point of agony for those waiting, he rose from his chair. There was no wand in his hand, nor was there a threatening glance towards any of the Death Eaters. At least, not that was obvious, and this alone was enough to give ease to the audience.

"As you all know," he began quietly, though his voice echoed loud enough to be heard by all, "those who should be with us tonight have been imprisoned. Those who have been imprisoned due to foolishness will, of course, be punished accordingly. Then there are those that we shall all accept back without question."

He looked about the room musingly, and then smiled- or what shall here forth be named smiling.

"However," he continued, "there are some here that can not be accepted as quickly." Suddenly, those red eyes appeared again. They had been red before, obviously, but not as violent as they seemed at that point. The Dark Lord held out an arm, pointing his finger towards a short man, not much taller than Tempest herself. The man was brought forward by an invisible force, and immediately started whimpering pitifully.

"My Lord!" he cried out, dropping to the floor and bowing on his knees, snivelling.

"You are not the only one I am displeased with, Breadle," Voldemort hissed, pulling forward another man- much taller than the previous one, and as his cloak pulled back and his face was revealed, Tempest's eyes widened. "You too, Durkam," he added, watched with displeasure as the two men knelt there before him. Durkam seemed much calmer, though he shook with fear. It was this, and this alone, that betrayed him.

Lord Voldemort came forward towards them, withdrawing his wand gently from his robes.

"I have made it clear in my earlier years that each and every one of my servants is that- _mine_. And nothing of mine is to be touched without my permission."

Breadle sobbed loudly again, while Durkam simply closed his dark eyes, his lips pressed tightly together.

"I am sorry, my Lord," Durkam said. "I meant no disrespect."

"You did not mean it," Lord Voldemort repeated, laughing cruelly. "Such an excuse!" He looked bitterly at the other man. "And you, Breadle? What is your excuse?" The portly man looked up, still shaking and whimpering, his small, watery eyes pleading.

"I was weak, my Lord," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "I was weak, terribly weak! Please, my Lord, I meant no harm!"

"You were weak," Voldemort whispered. He knelt low, facing Breadle threateningly. "You were weak," he repeated quietly, the tip of his wand pressed against the man's cheek. "If it's possible, that is worse than Durkam's excuse." Breadle sobbed again, and Voldemort stood again to turn his back on the men. "Durkam," he said sharply without turning his head. "I will deal with you later. You may return to your place." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Weakness should be punished before disobedience."

Immediately, Durkam retreated back to where he stood before, pulling up his hood to hide his face again. Voldemort turned, towering over Breadle sinisterly.

"Let us hope you learn your lesson," he said calmly before raising his wand and casting it down upon the quivering man before him. "_Crucio!_"

Tempest's gasp was drowned out by the sound of Breadle's screaming. His whimpering had changed all so suddenly into horrific screams that she did not know why she was not weeping at the very sound. The sound echoed and bounced off the walls, drilling itself into her ears again and again. She could not help but turn her head at the very sight.

"Potter," he snarled the moment that the screams ceased into another blubbering set of tears. Tempest froze, expecting to be dragged forward as everyone else had been. "Come here," he hissed after her doubtful pause, at which point she felt herself stumble forward slightly. She quickly composed herself enough to walk quite steadily from that point on. That didn't stop her trembling.

Voldemort glared at her, his eyes burning.

"Do you recognise him?" he asked quietly, a hissing whisper.

"No," Tempest replied, sounding calmer to herself than she did to everyone else.

"Really? Then why, I ask, does _he_ recognise _you_?" She blinked twice in return, staring at the trembling man.

"I don't know who he is," Tempest verified, shaking.

"Then why does he know you?" he demanded, raising his voice.

"I don't know!" she said earnestly. The Dark Lord stared contemptuously before pointing accusingly at her.

"I expect you yourself to tell me when my property is being touched."

"But I am not-" Tempest stopped immediately, literally choking on her words. "Oh," she whispered, looking down at the quivering man. "I didn't recognise him," she continued after a pregnant pause.

Lightly, the tip of a wand was pressed underneath her chin.

"It might benefit you, Potter, to pay attention," Voldemort murmured so that only she could hear. He pulled away the wand so that it scraped roughly against her skin, sure enough to leave a bruise later on. "Back to your place, Breadle," he hissed. "I want you to remain here," he added, not even bothering to turn to Tempest. She nodded, breathing deeply. She had not been punished. She had nothing to fear.

There was silence for some time after that. In reality, it was mere seconds, though it seemed a life time for each and every man and woman in that room.

Without the need for speech, the Dark Lord turned to face the door further south of the room and with a wave of his wand, the doors opened easily to bid entrance to those behind it. For those that had been recruited long before the Dark Lord's downfall, the scene was rather calm, a welcoming of sorts. For Tempest, the very sight was quite terrifying. She felt fortunate to be wearing the cloak, as her face was somewhat contorted in horror. She was sure that even if she had not been punished so far, she would not be as lucky showing such weakness.

They were certainly very interesting, despite the fear they inspired. At least, the few at the front were. None of them wore the same cloaks that the Death Eaters already present wore, supposedly due to the fact they had only arrived lately in England. Two people stood ever so slightly prior everyone else, one being a tall dishevelled looking man, quite handsome probably had it not been for the protruding cheekbones and gaunt expression. He stood quite closely to the woman next to him, far more beautiful than him, though still withdrawn and emaciated.

She quickly noted the other faces, each of them determined, some proud. She recognised the face of a man named Dolohov; his picture had been shown in an edition of the Daily Prophet three years back in some article or another. None of the other faces were at all familiar, and so Tempest simply stood and waited.

"My servants," Voldemort said quietly as the gathering stood still, the sound of their footsteps echoing finally silencing. "I welcome you back. Generously, I might add, when it comes to some of you. I know that some of you have more right to be here than others." At this point, he surveyed them all, causing a few to jump. "Of course, I am merciful. Those of you that do not deserve to be here will not be punished _too_ severely."

This was quickly followed by the sound of someone swallowing thickly.

"Ah, Bellatrix," he continued, his tone lighter somewhat as he made his way forward to the woman Tempest had previously noted. "Such a long time it has been. I trust that you and your husband have recovered from your journey? And in the same manner that you have been taught."

"Of course, my Lord," the woman replied, her voice hoarse and yet still seductive in its own right. "I never do forget. Luckily we did happen to find a small Muggle family on the borderline. Just settling down to a late dinner. Perfect timing, if I might say so myself, my Lord."

"Just as I had hoped," he said, placing a thin hand on her shoulder. The woman went tense, and a smile threatened to burst to her lips. "Bellatrix, I have a small gift for you."

"My Lord?" Bellatrix questioned, her brow knitted, but her smile still waiting.

"You will have been without your wand for some time. And I knew how much you loved to use it. I quite admired how well you used it- it is, Bellatrix, your shining talent." The smile could no longer be hidden, and she allowed herself to do so, though it was not as innocent as Tempest had first thought it would be. "And therefore I thought it best I plan this little gift for you. Clearly the gift would be no less than a favour to me, I am not as charitable as that."

"Who might it be, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked breathily.

"Patience, dear." He waved a hand to the crowd who then formally moved towards the wall, encircling the three left in the centre. "You talents in…ah, punishment, I think is the most appropriate word."

_Punishment?_

"Punishment?" Bellatrix repeated airily, still on quite a high from the idea of torture. Gently, the Dark Lord directed her attention towards Tempest with one long finger.

"This one hasn't been the most obedient of servants, I'm afraid," he said in a taunting manner, which utterly escaped Bellatrix, whose eyes widened hungrily. Tempest herself could not move, for she was frozen. Only a moment ago she had seen the effects of what she was certain was to come. The very thought terrified her.

"My Lord," the woman said again, much more breathily, looking imploringly. "Might I now, my Lord?"

Without speaking, Lord Voldemort nodded, sneering in Tempest's direction. She did not look at him, and still remained with her eyes cast down to the ground. If anyone had been able to see, they would have noticed that she refused to allow herself to cry, unlike Breadle had.

Bellatrix paused only to withdraw her wand, though did so slowly, drawing out the punishment. She left little time after drawing her wand, though, before crying out the spell with a piercing cackle.

The sight of Breadle's torture was not nearly enough to prepare Tempest for what she felt next. Breadle had left sweating and twitching, as if he had endured a lifetime's worth of torture rather than a minute's worth. Though she had braced herself, Tempest felt every nerve in her body set alight with flames, and every pore of her skin become pricked with needles and pins. The scream that she let burst from her lips was one that she had never even heard in her nightmares. _Make it stop_, she screamed through her mind, though the words did not escape her. _Please, I'll do anything! Just make it stop!_

And as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The moment it has, Tempest collapsed to the floor out of sheer fatigue, her legs unable to stand her weight any longer. Her breathing came heavily, and her eyes were wide. She had not been in such a state since she was a child, when soon after she awoke from a nightmare, she would sit watching the room, wary of any creatures to come for her.

She was aware of a presence by her side, though she did not know who it was. Whoever it was pulled back the hood of her cloak, and stared down at her. In return, Tempest looked up at them, though her vision was quite impaired and therefore she could not concentrate on their form.

"Why do you not give up?" the high pitched voice hissed in her ear. "Why do you not open your mind? Why protect it if there is nothing to protect?"

"Why…do you…give a damn?" she asked through heavy gasps. There was no reply to her question, and as she felt the breeze of Voldemort's robes swaying past her, Tempest let out a sigh similar to a whimper.

"I shall bring you all here by the week's end," Voldemort announced to the rest of the gathering. "I hope you have all learnt from lessons taught here today." He paused, looking down at Tempest. "Disrepute, as well as weakness, will be punished."

With that, the majority of the audience disapparated. Only two were left, apart from Tempest herself. Lucius Malfoy waited before moving towards the still gasping body in the centre of the room, and Bellatrix Lestrange still had not moved from her place. Tempest could see slightly more clearly by this point, and weakly attempted to pull herself up to her knees, from which point she stared up at the woman in front of her.

The woman simply stared back.

"What?" Tempest asked rather crudely, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her cloak. "You've had your way, now what is it?"

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" Bellatrix asked in return curiously, though her voice was quiet. Tempest scoffed.

"And what am I supposed to do when you're bloody well _torturing_ me?"

"You were supposed to fight back," she said weakly. "You were supposed to be able to do that by now."

"Bellatrix," Lucius said warningly, taking hold of Tempest's arm and wrapping it around his shoulder. "Perhaps this is a conversation best to wait for."

"Why is that, Lucius?" she snapped in return, watching them both. "Why must it wait? It is obvious there is no need for conversation at all; you must be very happy to know that I was wrong."

Lucius sighed heavily, pulling Tempest steadily to her feet.

"There is no need for self-pity, Bellatrix, it is below even you. Come with us back to the manor, won't you?"

"And why would I do that, exactly?"

"Your sister?" Lucius offered slowly, quite sure that she had forgotten. Bellatrix paused, and then shook her head.

"If that's the best you can come up with."

"It isn't the best, but it'll do for now."

Grudgingly, Bellatrix accepted the offer, and in a crack, all three disappeared from sight.


	20. Chapter 20

_No such details will spoil my plan  
That is the kind of girl I am  
HA HA HA  
__- Me & The Minibar, the Dresden Dolls_

Bellatrix did not look at all again at Tempest, and in return, Tempest kept her gaze down in a manner of anger rather than sadness. They Apparated quickly, leaving very little time for any unwanted conversation anyway, and so the party was left as happy as they could wish under the circumstances.

They landed immediately in the west drawing room, which happened to already have a fire lit for guests. Tempest supposed that Narcissa had her way of knowing when they would come back and had ordered a house elf to do the business of starting a fire and sorting the room for a second time that day. It was sweet, in a way; at least, as sweet as she supposed Narcissa could be.

_Speak of the Devil_, Tempest thought inwardly as a sound came from the hallway. A muffled voice, scarcely a whisper, yet it echoed through the hall so as to be heard.

"Lucius?"

He did not reply, though did not need to, as immediately Narcissa appeared at the doorway, clad less formally than the other three and appearing quite strange dressed in a white dressing gown while everyone else was dressed in black. She seemed quite bemused at first until her eyes settled upon Bellatrix. There was the slightest pause before Narcissa's features twisted into a form of scowl.

"What is she doing here?" she asked bitterly, her eyes not leaving the woman.

"Thanks for the greeting," Bellatrix retorted nonchalantly, moving about the room curiously. "Listen, your elves might not be the best dusters," she said, wiping a finger across the mantel piece, "but d'you think they could get something to eat?"

"It's nearly midnight, Bellatrix," Narcissa pointed out with a laboured kindness and politeness that showed its speciousness in the crease in her forehead.

"Well, time waits for no man, or woman, and I am not waiting for food." Her arms folded across her breast and she stared at Narcissa with an almost daring look. Tempest in turn looked up at Lucius, whose expression was just as quizzical. She very nearly started to laugh; neither of them had a clue what to say or do.

"You and I both know it's not the food you want."

"You're right," Bellatrix said with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. "So where do you keep the spirits, then?"

Both Lucius and Tempest looked wary as Narcissa's expression became murderous- she had not even looked at Tempest in that manner- and wondered whether it would have been smart to have left the room. If Narcissa happened to have her wand with her, neither wanted to be there when a duel set out. She very rarely used her wand in such a manner, but Lucius knew very well that when she did, Narcissa was almost as cruel as her sister.

That was why it was so unexpected that she began to laugh.

"Oh, Trixie!" she cried, rushing to her sister and embracing her warmly. Bellatrix looked as shocked as Tempest and Lucius, though there was certainly no laughter hidden behind her features as there was for the other two. Instead, Bellatrix had become quite rigid, staring at her sister with an awkward smile.

"Okay, Cissy," Bellatrix said slowly, gently prising away her arms. "I think you can let go now." Narcissa quickly let go of her, smiling broadly.

"It's just- well, it's been so long, Trixie," Narcissa stammered, carried away with herself.

"And I've missed you too, dear," she said with a small smile. It seemed the strongest she could manage without seeming mad. Tempest frowned, and turned her head slightly towards Lucius.

"Am I missing something?" she murmured under her breath.

"Sisters," he replied. "Doesn't show much, but I guess they just realised that now." She paused, watching them both mutter to each other in some unknown conversation.

"They're a little slow, I guess," she thought aloud. Lucius nodded in agreement, but the movement was very minute. Tempest did not dare to move much either, really. Bringing attention to oneself was not an intelligent option at the time.

"You did not bring Rodolphus with you?" Narcissa asked with feigned despondency.

"He left the meeting before I could speak to him," Bellatrix replied in a bored tone; she didn't much care for the fact. "You wouldn't have been very impressed if I'd brought him, though."

"True, but I would have thought you cared slightly more about where he was at this point in time." Bellatrix laughed at the innocent comment, shaking her head.

"Even Azkaban couldn't have made our hearts grow fonder. If ten years of marriage wouldn't do it, then ten years of absence won't either. And do not pity me, Cissy," she added as Narcissa opened her mouth to speak. "The less time he spends around me, the better."

"But you told me he wasn't violent," Narcissa said considerately, reaching to put a hand on her sister's.

"And he isn't," Bellatrix said slowly, frowning slightly. "Of course he isn't. But it doesn't stop him being such a ba-"

Lucius cleared his throat pointedly, causing Bellatrix to look up with distaste blatantly upon her features.

"Am I disturbing you, Lucius?" she asked impertinently, raising her chin.

"Yes, but that is beside the point. Might I ask that you control your tongue while you are under my roof."

"You may ask, but I mightn't follow," Bellatrix replied. Her eyes glanced over Lucius lazily and she spotted Tempest standing by his side. "Haven't you thought about sending her out by now?"

"Lucius insists on keeping her," Narcissa muttered to her sister.

"Then at least send her from the room. She doesn't need to hear anything."

"I certainly could do without hearing you chatter on, Bellatrix, but I must say your doubts are highly misplaced."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Narcissa cast a weary glance at Lucius as Bellatrix's temper began to rise.

"I mean to say that though I long to prove your theory wrong, Bellatrix- actually, prove any thoughts you might have wrong- my need to do so is belittled by my wish to parade my tutoring…how shall I put it? Talents?"

"It's true," Narcissa said in a slightly mournful tone, surprising Tempest with the words, though settling the surprise with her tone. "He's done you proud, Trixie."

"I doubt it," Bellatrix snapped, folding her arms and staring from Lucius to Tempest, her eyes slits. "I'd be surprised if he even bothered teaching her to read."

"No, I didn't," Lucius admitted coolly. "She did that by herself."

"She was a frightening little child," Narcissa explained quietly. "Neither of us really dared to go near her really."

"Well then, though she's useless to me now, I can't say I'm not proud in that respect."

"And what is meant by that?" Tempest asked suddenly, causing all eyes to lay upon her. Bellatrix's jaw tightened at the insolence in her tone.

"Never you mind, Potter, it has nothing to do with you now," she replied bitterly.

"It has everything to do with me, if it is me who isn't useful, as you would put it."

"Tempest," Lucius began warningly, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, though she shrugged it off easily with a sudden passion that was rare to be surpassed.

"No, Lucius, it is not a time to try your ways of calming me," she said shrilly, looking darkly at her guardian. "It isn't at all! Though if you wish to speak to me you might as well tell me what in the name of Merlin _she_-", at this point she pointed a finger accusingly at Bellatrix, "-has to do with me. Don't you dare say she doesn't, Lucius, I can tell when you are lying!"

"She's a Legilimens?" Bellatrix asked curiously, though doubtfully. Lucius shook his head.

"Merely with a great sense of intuition."

"Lucius!" Tempest cried desperately, finally her anger melting away to a mere desperation. "You must tell me who she. Not her name, but _who_ she is!"

Then the silence fell. It was a silence that Tempest herself knew she was obligated to join, even if it was her deepest wish to break it and scream. Though it was childish, it could not be helped. Still, she waited, her mouth closed firmly, her eyes focused upon Lucius. Waiting for an answer. It did not come from him, though.

"I'm the person didn't kill you," Bellatrix said in a nonchalant tone, a small sigh after she said it. "Or at least, the person who didn't allow you to die." Tempest snorted, the very idea ludicrous until she noticed the way that both Narcissa and Lucius stared at her as if she were mad. She quickly hid her sarcastic smile.

"That little explains anything."

"There's little else to say," she replied with a shrug. "I'm nothing else to you."

"Perhaps not too me, I didn't expect you were any relation of sorts," Tempest said pressingly. Knowing that Bellatrix refused to say another word, she looked up again at Lucius, who sighed dejectedly.

"The day that we believed the Dark Lord was defeated was the same day that you and your brother were orphaned," he said simply, though the tone was more remorseful than Bellatrix's had been. "Bellatrix, I will admit, was one of the stronger leaders of the Cause. Needless to say, she thought that some day, you would be useful."

"Then why was Harry not taken with me?" she asked slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor as she thought.

"He'd already been taken away by the time I'd gotten there," Bellatrix replied to the question that had not been directed in her way, though she felt it was time for her to speak again. Tempest's eyes snapped up immediately at the words.

"He had already gone?" she repeated weakly.

"I think we've heard enough from you, Bellatrix," Lucius snapped quickly, sure enough of the fret in Tempest's tone.

"And you knew that he had already gone?" she quickly asked Bellatrix, her eyes wide. Her head turned slightly to Lucius. "And you knew too?"

"Oh dear," Bellatrix started tauntingly, a smile creeping upon her lips. "Is our poor little Potter baby getting the jist of things? She finally guessed why she's here to begin with?"

"Bellatrix, please," Narcissa hissed, quite flustered by this point herself.

"No, Cissy dear, I think it's time the little child knew what happened," she said, her wide eyes never leaving Tempest, who had become all of a sudden quite stiff. "I think it's high time this little princess was brought down a peg or two." Bellatrix lazily began to circle the young girl, her smile still remaining and a look of seduction upon her features- one given to prey, mind you, rather than one meant with any hint of adoration. "You see, little princess Potter, I couldn't find your brat of a brother when I came for you. Did you know that? Even I didn't come looking for you originally."

"I won't hear another word of it," Lucius said finally with an authority that seemed fresh to him after the day. "Bellatrix, you can stop taunting a child half your age or you can leave this room- leave this house if you will, simply hold your tongue."

Bellatrix laughed lightly, shaking her head.

"You'd deny your little ward her own little history lesson? You want to know why they didn't find you, princess?" she asked with a small pout. "It's because you weren't _important_ enough. I'm sure you've heard of the little problem of the Prophecy, haven't you?"

She could not reply, and so Tempest gave a stiff little nod.

"It was for your brother, wasn't it, now? For _him_. And so what use is the girl for them? Nothing. So they didn't bother to look for you. Until Lucius found me out I hadn't even imagined that you were anything but that brother of yours. Why? Because no one wanted to think of you, princess."

Tempest stiffened slightly at the words.

_Of course_, she thought inwardly. _Though why should it bother you? You've never come first in life. You've never been loved. Why should it have been different when you were a baby?_

"Heck," she continued, laughing to herself, "if what Lucius has told me is true, then the only reason _he's_ shown any interest is to prove me wrong."

With a cry of _Expelliarmus_, Bellatrix was thrown backwards into the wall behind her with a force to shudder the bookcase beside her. Tempest had disappeared from the room before her target even understood what had happened. Bellatrix lay in a heap, gasping. The shock had quite taken her breath away, and when she looked up from the floor, a surprising smile appeared.

"Did she just do that?" she asked breathily, her excitement getting the better of her.

"Of course it was," Lucius replied proudly enough, his pride far outweighing his anger with her. Narcissa remained quiet, surprised. "You should not as be as saddened by her as you were, you know. She is far more skilled than you would first think." Bellatrix nodded slightly, her eyes not concentrating on him any more, but rather somewhere distant. Without even having to ask, Lucius knew what it was she was thinking of.

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Darkness. It had to be dark. There was no other way to live at that point in time. The moment she arrived to her room Tempest had blown out all the candles and drawn her curtains, making sure that even the candles outside her room were out. Any light would simply distract her from her current mindset. Though the lights were out, she had managed to manoeuvre herself around her room until she sat at her dressing table. She knew that she could have directed herself to her bed much more easily, and would have been much more comfortable, yet felt that staring towards a mirror that she could not see would settle her.

Tempest had always known she was adopted. Ever since she was young. It had been a fact of life that she was proud to say she was able to get through without the moping of 'emotional scars' some spoke of. She had not been happy with the fact, but had survived well with it. She had never once wondered, though, and strangely enough when she pondered over the fact, how she had come to be adopted.

Yes, of course her parents were dead, or else she had figured she would not have been left. It was a lucky guess that happened to come true.

She had no immediate family either to take her in willingly other than the Malfoys.

Though not once- not a single time, not when she had discovered about her brother, had she wondered why he had been found, and she had not.

She supposed it would have been better if she had never heard of the matter at all. And it was certainly a rare time when Tempest Potter did not wish to be in the know. If she was sure of anything, it was that she was much happier mere minutes ago.

At least, slightly happier.

To be frank, she had not been happy in what seemed like months. She brushed a finger against where she knew her Dark Mark lay, closing her eyes at the thought of it. No, she hadn't at all been happier minutes before. If anything, a slight peace lay in the sadness that was brought upon her. There was a certainty in front of her, even if it was one that she could not take pleasure in.

She sighed, resting her head on her arms, the dressing table's surface seeming somewhat colder. Shivering, she decided that one candle would suffice to darken the room, and yet allow her not to freeze to death. She sought out a candle that stood on the tablet and with a quick mutter, it cast a small orange light. Long shadows emitted from objects around the room. As her eyes became adjusted to the dim glow, she stared about her, her dazed state leading her eyes to wander about the room. Until she found the mirror.

And her reflection.

_No good comes from a pretty face_, she recalled hearing once when listening to a conversation Lucius and Narcissa had held in the parlour some years ago. _An_ unmarried_ pretty face, nonetheless._

It was true. Although she had previously been occupied with the thoughts that Bellatrix Lestrange had inspired into her, Tempest could not help but all of a sudden become overwhelmed by anything and everything that had gone wrong in life. She could not help being adopted. She could not help being unloved. There was only one thing in the world that she could help, that she could control. One thing that she had come to detest.

With slow precision, Tempest reached out and opened the top left drawer of her dresser. There was always an assortment of things that she had either made or stolen- the latter being a majority- in the drawer, and as she fumbled through the items she maintained a look of concentration. She smiled lightly as her fingers brushed against the cold metal that she recognised immediately. Tempest brought out the long, thick pair of scissors. They had been meant for Narcissa's sewing, though most of her equipment had disappeared as Tempest took it. Lucius had offered time and again to buy her a new set, though Narcissa claimed she was sick of the hobby. Tempest was sure she was the true reason behind her quitting.

So, with a quick movement that required little thought, Tempest pulled out a lock of her hair, and cut.

Again and again she repeated it, cutting until the majority of her hair lay in a pile around her chair, the white carpet suddenly auburn. It did not take long before Tempest was finally satisfied with the work done. She brushed her fingers through what was left, looking up again at the mirror. It was then that she glided the scissors across her cheek, not deep enough to harm her dangerously, though deep enough to leave a scar. Even if it were not permanent.

And as quickly as the decisions had been made, they had been carried out and finished.

At last, she was, in her own eyes, suitable to not be stared at. To not be fawned over. To not be sought after.

_To finally be left alone._

**A/N-** Okay, slightly strange. Did I do the right thing there? I just thought it was time for Tempest to have a spaz moment. So to do that, I thought it somewhat suitable to chop most of her hair off and give her a giant scar. I kinda might have done it also because I realised that Tempest seemed to have the characteristics of a Mary Sue, so I thought I'd liven her up a bit more. I've also noticed that I've been getting more people subscribing to this story. Lots more people. Which is great! But less reviewers. Not so great. I'd love to hear from you, people! And not just a line saying 'Great chapter'. I won't reply to any of those :D I want to know that you're actually ENJOYING it!


	21. Chapter 21

_When you think that you'll survive  
Just don't try  
Run and hide  
My eyes are hollow like my soul  
__- Hollow Like My Soul, Emilie Autumn_

Bellatrix Lestrange treated the girl with more revere than she had previously expected she would do after that day. She was certainly more indifferent to the change in Tempest's appearance than either Lucius or Narcissa. Narcissa's annoyance brought a slight satisfaction to Tempest, though it was simply because of the surprise which came with the annoyance.

"It's absolute nonsense!" she cried upon Tempest's defence of decision. "You were already such a boyish thing, strutting about the place in such a manner all the time, and then you go and do something so silly!"

In return to the comment, Bellatrix laughed- at least, cackled- and ruffled the short hair atop Tempest's head.

"You were ever such a prissy thing, Narcissa," she said, still laughing. "Guess that never did change."

"And you were far too much of a tomboy yourself," Narcissa replied, sniffing contemptuously. "I don't wish for you to be encouraging her."

"Oh come, Narcissa," Tempest said in a mock plea of sorts. "You mustn't halt Bellatrix in her ways, she is ever so much fun." Bellatrix smiled triumphantly, poking her tongue out at her sister.

"See? A bad example was exactly what she needed to put a smile on that face," she said triumphantly. Tempest laughed to affirm this point. It was true. Strange though it seemed, Tempest had found some form of affection for the woman. It was not much less than the affection she felt for Lucius- one that could not be described as love, but simply a great liking. And though what Narcissa felt due to this was far from jealousy, she could not help but feel irate at the fact that she was somewhat left out of a gathering.

"You are her _only_ example, Trixie, and you know it. Make it a good one."

"I would attempt to defend my place as an example, but I would be wasting me time, would I not?" Lucius asked in a bored tone as he looked up from _The Daily Prophet_.

"And since when did you do very much that was productive with your time? The Ministry don't even make you do anything lately," Bellatrix pointed out with a scowl. Lucius smirked superiorly.

"Be glad of it, I shouldn't think the Dark Lord would be all too pleased if I allowed myself around such Muggle-lovers."

"Better that than lose your respect and station," Narcissa pointed out thoughtfully. "I shouldn't think he would be all too pleased if you were any less respected."

"True as well," Lucius admitted, though said no more on the matter other than remind them that it was his rank that earned him the right to remain where he pleased. The conversation continued with very little interest, though it was more a matter of filling silence than conversing. Tempest grew weary of simply sitting there, imitating interest, and looked about the room for the book Severus has set as homework for her year. She had already read it, although found that she was forced to read it again and again in order to make sure she had not missed changing details.

"What on Earth is that?" Bellatrix asked disgustedly upon seeing the book.

"It's a book," Tempest pointed out slowly.

"Unlikely. That's a weapon, I'm sure of it. I've never thrown anything smaller at Rodolphus."

"I prefer to read it than throw it," Tempest replied with a smile. "Severus lent it to me. Homework."

"Oh, yes," Bellatrix said bitterly, casting a look at Lucius. "Because someone thought it best he taught you, isn't that right?"

"I would have given the job to you had you not been so busy," Lucius said with a slight smirk. "He does the job well."

"Be that as it may, I don't like her interacting with a man like that."

"A man like what?" Tempest asked.

"Like…that! He isn't appropriate."

"I find him perfectly appropriate, Bellatrix, even if he is somewhat big headed."

"That being the tip of the mountain," Bellatrix mused. She shook her head. "I simply wish you could have taught her Potions yourself, Lucius. Or left out the subject all together! I've done very well in life without ever having to make a single vial of Veritaserum."

"Yes, but Trixie, that is more a matter of talent in spells than a lack of need for a potion." In return, Bellatrix sniffed contemptuously.

"But it still _works_. I should think a potion would have just slowed me down." Tempest laughed at Bellatrix's determination, and returned quickly to the book. Lucius looked up again, arching an eyebrow.

"Was I not supposed to test you on that?" he asked.

"You were, but I am sure we can both survive without the chore of doing so." Lucius shrugged, though did continue to seem doubtful. Tempest blatantly ignored this fact, keeping her nose thoroughly buried in the book. Bellatrix clucked her tongue once more before resigning to the fact that she could not persuade Tempest to do otherwise.

For once since she received the Mark, Tempest could not help but be glad of the burning sensation on her arm, just to distract from the boredom.

Narcissa sighed as the three other occupants of the room rose and fastened their nearby cloaks around them.

"We never do get a simple conversation, do we?" she said sadly.

"It was a very simple conversation, Cissy," Bellatrix said lightly before Disapparating with a crack. Tempest smiled weakly before taking hold of Lucius's arm and Disapparating with the same abruptness and lack of farewell that Bellatrix had.

They had Apparated outside the house again, and the moment they entered through the door Rodolphus waited for them. Bellatrix did not seem in the least surprised to see him, nor did he look at all angered by the fact that she had not been with him.

"Where have you been?" he hissed at all three of them.

"We have only just been alerted," Lucius said slowly.

"And still you should have been quicker, or have been here already! He's asking for you- all of you. Merlin, he asked for me and I'm risking my hide trying to tell you to be quick!"

"Most romantic thing you've ever done, Roddy," Bellatrix said with a quick spout of laughter as they started towards the hall where Lord Voldemort was concealed. Their pace increased, and within moments they had reached the door and entered the hall. There were already three other men awaiting them apart from Voldemort himself. They looked up to see the new arrivals, though Voldemort did not move an inch.

"I would have preferred it if you had come quicker," he said slowly, his voice high and quiet. "Always take into consideration that you are here for matters of importance."

"It shan't happen again, my Lord," Lucius said solemnly. Voldemort turned his head slightly.

"Come forward. Quickly. Tonight is the night."

"Tonight?" Bellatrix asked in awe. "But, my Lord, we are-"

"Perfectly prepared," he finished. "And if not…well, we shall see, won't we? You have little choice in the matter."

"Why are we here, then?" Tempest asked brusquely. "Why is there no one else with us?"

"Because there is no one else I would trust with the job," Voldemort said slowly, obviously calculating things in his mind. "No one else has the talent or perseverance."

Bellatrix automatically raised her head slightly in pride, though was ignored- much for her safety, Tempest believed. They gathered round in a makeshift circle, each with their eyes laid upon the Dark Lord's solemn face. Tempest's eyes were ever so slightly lowered so that even she did not notice, but low enough so that she did not concentrate on his eyes. Over the months, she still had not quite become accustomed to them.

"You will need to be in the Department of Ministries, of course," he murmured in a low voice, obviously to be heard, though not loud enough to be open for questioning. "The only step of importance will be in the Prophecy room."

There was a pointed silence, not meant to be filled, and so it wasn't.

"He will bring others," Voldemort continued slowly. "You may kill any if you wish. Just leave Potter to me."

Tempest flinched slightly at this order, though was not noticed to her fortune.

"Go!" Everyone jumped slightly at the abrupt cry from Voldemort's throat, and took no more time in Apparating. Tempest had quickly taken Lucius's arm again, though was not sure whether it was due to necessity or fear.

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It was dark. At least, it would have been dark, had the crystal balls that were lined up so neatly, towering above them, been dim. It was their only source of light. No two Death Eaters stood beside each other. They walked silently- their footsteps inaudible- up and down the room, waiting. There could be no contact. They simply had to wait for Harry Potter to walk through that door. They could only imagine what was going on beforehand, though none of them truthfully cared.

When it came, it came quickly. Tempest looked up quickly when she finally heard the silence break. Someone had found them. _Lucius._ With the same quiet- silent- footsteps, she moved her way towards the sounds of speech. _Bellatrix_. That was the other voice she heard. Those were the only adult voices she heard. She was close enough to make out the speech. Of course. The first thing Bellatrix would do is tease the children mercilessly. Cruelly. Tempest was rather used to this cruel persona that she seemed to have, and so was not at all surprised that it was used now.

All the Death Eaters had appeared around the group by now. None of their face could be seen- their hoods were brought up and their faces were concealed by silver masks. Though the Death Eaters remained still, the children in the centre huddled closer together, their eyes darting from one face to the other. Only Harry Potter remained facing forward, towards Lucius.

"All you have to do is give it to me," he said in his low, drawling voice, yet with the slight anticipation visible in his voice. "I can show you everything."

There was a pause in which the boy stared at the orb that still remained in his hand.

"I've waited fourteen years," he murmured, though the sound was quite clear, crystal clear.

"I know," Lucius replied, false sympathy basing his words.

"And I can wait a little bit more, now!"

The speech was sudden, and none of them had time to prepare themselves against the cry of _Stupify!_ that came from each of the group. They flew backwards, projected by the spell, and the hunt pursued.

She was sure that the one boy she followed was not Harry, and was glad of it. Instead she followed a slightly more dumpy, yet still undeniably quick, boy who threw a few haphazard curses. He wasn't skilled, to say the least, though any curses that did come somewhat close to her were powerful enough to have caused some damage. Fortunately, that damage came only to the crystal balls behind her.

Finally, one of the spells hit her, but it was weak enough to send her back only a few feet. The stop in her pursuit held her back long enough for the boy to run further off, and for another of the Death Eaters to start follow him. In the time that it took her to finally rise again to her feet, she heard one of the girls from the group shout _Reducto!_ With a loud bang, a man she was sure that she was supposed to know disappeared from her sight.

As quickly as the group had appeared in their sight, they disappeared through a door at the end of the corridor. She gritted her teeth as Bellatrix came to an abrupt stop beside her- it was strange how lost they had become in the maze of crystals, but they did not dwell much on the fact. In fact, the battle suddenly became somewhat more hungry, and each of them dissolved to the dust that represented them.

Already they were posed for attack. Prepared.

For a short while.

The group was easily confused by the movement around them, which Tempest took part in until she felt a hand pull her aside harshly. Ignoring the sudden feeling of dizziness that overwhelmed her, Tempest clearly heard Lucius whisper urgently into her ear.

"Stay hidden- he has not yet said you must be noticed."

Though the fact irritated her, Tempest gritted her teeth and tapped a finger upon her head, whereupon she felt an annoyingly similar feeling of something cold and wet trickling down her back. All commotion had come to a stop, and she stood still where she had been dragged, unable to be seen. Each of the Death Eaters had one of the children who had come in their grasp- Tempest noted Bellatrix had hold of the boy that Tempest herself had chased- and a wand pressed against their throat. They circled a large object in the middle of the room- _the veil_. Tempest had been told about it briefly once before, and took little notice in it. The only two left in the centre of the ring that was now there were Lucius and Harry Potter, who still gripped onto the prophecy.

"I am going to make this very simple, Potter," Lucius said slowly, his teeth gritted. "Give me the prophecy or watch your friends die."

Tentatively, Harry's arm reached out, still with a tight hold on the prophecy. Lucius smirked ever so slightly as he reached out in return for the crystal ball.

"Don't do it, Harry!" shouted the boy, though Bellatrix quickly tapped his throat- a reminder of sorts. Tempest closed her eyes, not sure what she was supposed to will to happen. Deciding it best to follow Lucius's judgement rather than a stranger's, she prayed the prophecy would reach his hand. Fortunately, it did.

To their misfortune, it did not remain.

The moment that Tempest opened her eyes, she found the battle had already begun. _Sirius_. She saw him alongside Harry, casting as many spells as possible at Lucius. The sight caused her to blink twice, as if to verify it all, though it did not remain so for very long. With very little hesitation, she rose herself from the spot she had been sat at and thought quickly of a spell- _any_ spell- anything to help the situation. Once more she decided it best to support the side she had been pushed towards, and yet decided upon something that would cause little to no damage.

She muttered the incantation _Confringo_ quickly under her breath, directing the spell at a small rock that lay nearby Harry Potter's foot- it was fortunate that the room held a very earthy tone, and also fortunate that it seemed Harry was quick to react as the rock burst into flames. The sudden jump meant that he pointedly missed a curse sent by Lucius, though his own spell was cast across the room into the wall.

It was almost slow motion from that moment on. There were so many smaller battles going on, not a single one of them that Tempest took an interest in apart from Lucius's. She watched with a severe curiosity, watching all three move in some sort of strange dance. It escaped Tempest's notice that there was still one person who she could not see at all. The point at which she knew who was missing was when it was too late.

Bellatrix appeared only a metre away from where Tempest stood, silently appearing and casting a spell immediately upon arrival. It was almost too quick to identify until the words echoed through her mind. A shot of green light blasted from the tip of Bellatrix's wand, hitting Sirius squarely in the chest. His features did not seem to change at all, despite the curse. Perhaps there had been no time for a change. It was almost too quick a way to die, really.

She could see that Harry watched with just as much disbelief as she did as Sirius fell into the veil. The silence from the boy afterwards left the dreaded realisation in her throat. _He didn't know_. He did not know what was hidden beyond the veil- if anything, that is. Tempest stood frozen until finally the realisation seemed to dawn on the boy's face. She felt herself fall forward slightly until she saw one of the men from the Order grab hold of his arms, halting him in his actions.

That despair soon dissolved, replaced quickly by anger. It was evident even from the distance she was at. Ignoring the hands that tried to restrain him, Harry ran quickly towards the doorway Bellatrix had only just herself left through. Should she have been a sillier child, Tempest would have worried for her friend, but knew very well that Harry was in no state to cause any damage. Lucius was still left in the room, dishevelled, and surrounded. Tempest thought little of the fact at the time- he was powerful, he was quick- and began to run herself towards the doorway. She held no worry for Bellatrix, she simply was curious as to how Harry would react.

There was little time before _He_ came. Tempest remembered clearly having been told to follow Bellatrix when finally the Dark Lord came- it was the time for their exit, they were not to be caught. Bellatrix flinched slightly when Tempest grabbed hold of her arm until the realisation dawned on her mere seconds after the contact, and the two were engulfed by the green flames before they had a chance to mutter a word.

And as quickly as it had all started, it stopped.

Bellatrix and Tempest were launched into the familiar hall of the hideaway manor, no one else in the room as of that moment. Only a few moments later Rodolphus Apparated in the centre of the room, alongside the other Death Eaters that had joined them.

Except one.


	22. Chapter 22

_I am the tower around which you orbited  
I am not proud I am just taking orders__,  
-The Dresden Dolls_

They waited at the very least an hour. At least, Tempest had. Rodolphus had simply sneered and walked on by, and Bellatrix only waited out of a sense of duty. Lord Voldemort had said nothing, and simply ordered a meeting in a separate room for those who had not attended the battle.

"They've taken him, Tempest, there's no use in waiting," Bellatrix urged soon enough, any sympathy in her tone gone and replaced with anger and fatigue. "Just come back to the manor- Merlin knows I could do with the sleep almost as much as you could."

As if suddenly realising how tired she was, Tempest rubbed her eye childishly, but still stood still, refusing to move. Bellatrix sighed and gave Tempest's shoulder a slight push.

"We've got to get back to Narcissa. She'll be worrying." She paused. "About Lucius."

"I shouldn't think I'd like being the one to tell her," Tempest said quietly. There was a pause, and then Bellatrix spoke again.

"If I am the one to tell her, will you finally move?" After a moments thought, Tempest finally nodded, and Bellatrix waited no longer to take hold of her arm and Apparate to the Malfoy Manor.

The fire was already lit, and the house elf of indeterminate gender stood dusting the table until it saw Bellatrix glaring at it, at which point it pointedly squeaked and scurried from the room. In approval, Bellatrix nodded her head and looked about the room.

"Cissy?" she called out, knowing her sister to be somewhere near- she was rather paranoid and would never usually trust a house elf by itself with a fire. "Cissy?" she repeated. True to the theory, Narcissa stepped into view of the doorway mere moments later, an eyebrow arched.

"I didn't expect you would be back so late," she said thoughtfully.

"Busy day," Bellatrix replied in an almost ashamed voice. Narcissa noticed the tone, but ignored it as she usually would find natural. Her eyes swept across the room, glancing over Tempest without much interest, but suddenly they stopped, and she could not help but blink twice. Then, as if with a realisation, she sighed.

"He is not being punished, is he?" she asked quietly. Bellatrix swallowed thickly.

"You could say so."

"You could say so? Bella, what has he done? Why would he be kept behind so late in the evening?"

Tempest placed a hand at her mouth, halting a sudden gasp that almost had sounded. Narcissa noted the fact, and her eyes grew wide.

"What has happened, Bella?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What has he done?" Bellatrix breathed lowly before finally swallowing again and speaking.

"They took him, Cissy."

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There hadn't been much reaction. At least, not to be seen. It had been a fortnight since Narcissa was given the news about Lucius, and she had not yet left her room. Bellatrix had grown bored of waiting and was more often than not either with her husband or at some form of meeting or another. Tempest herself did not mind very much- she preferred to remain in her own room in a mimic of Narcissa's own mourning. Of course, Tempest knew there was no reason to mourn. Lord Voldemort had once already set prisoners free from Azkaban, and his power over the Dementors was slowly returning; the only reason Lucius wasn't with them that very second was due to punishment. He had dropped the prophecy, and that in the Dark Lord's eye was enough to leave him in prison to waste away for a year or so. At some point, he would be brought back.

When finally she felt enough energy to leave her room, Tempest tried in vain to convey this message to Narcissa through the door, but it did not work. All that she was able to do was send a house elf in to persuade her to eat and stay out of her way for as long as humanly possible. For the time being, she was quite content with the fact until an unwelcome realisation came about- Draco was due back from Hogwarts. Tempest sighed aloud at the fact, and immediately came again to Narcissa's door.

"He's not coming back, Narcissa," Tempest said as firmly as she could muster through the door. "But unless you finally get out of this room, neither's Draco."

Silence.

"I don't know how you expect to get him back in this state. He'll be at the station in about three hours, and I bloody well can't get him."

"Yes you can!" The voice was muffled, thick and rather different to what Tempest had expected, but it was certainly Narcissa's.

"What do you expect me to do, fly there?"

"Use a Portkey," she exclaimed before falling back into her quiet stupor again.

In slight disbelief, Tempest blinked once, and then shook her head, her features again returning to an irritated frown.

"You needn't be so rude about it," she muttered before turning and glancing about the hallway. She settled her eyes on a vase of flowers that had begun to wilt ever so slightly. Shrugging her shoulders, she took hold of them and carried them back to her own room. They'd do well enough as a portkey- a house elf would have taken them away soon enough if she didn't make use of them. Having long been used to the spell, she did not bother transforming it into a portkey until the very last minute. Time was better spent reading in her opinion.

When finally the clock reminded her of the time- not literally, of course, though Tempest had once or twice tried in vain to make it talk- she sighed and quickly muttered the spell beneath her breath. She wasn't quite sure why she did it so quietly, it simply seemed to be a force of habit. Glancing once more towards the door, wondering whether there was any use at all in the idea of going again to Narcissa, though she thought twice and scooped the flowers carefully into a cloak she held nearby. She had made the mistake of not doing so before, and it had been an hour or so before she realised how to keep in a certain place for a certain amount of time.

It only crossed Tempest's mind that she had not once been to King's Cross in her life. Of course, she knew enough to know she only had to walk through to Platform 9 ¾, but it was simply a matter of finding Platforms 9 and 10. It seemed almost impossible at first, until finally she saw two people quickly diving through the crowds, muttering to themselves. They were in the strangest of Muggle apparel, and she would not have noticed them if she had not heard the woman speaking.

"I don't know _why_ I listen to you sometimes, Arthur! Those silly Ministry cars have left us a half hour behind schedule, I'll have you know!"

"But, Molly, if we had gone by Floo we'd never have seen those feletone- telephone- masts- that's what they're called, aren't there?"

"I couldn't care less," she grumbled before looking her around her briefly and charging into the barrier in front of her. The man, Arthur, quickly followed her, and Tempest arched an eyebrow in amusement. It wasn't often that Lucius and Narcissa argued, and so it was quite entertaining seeing it. Smiling to herself, she followed after them, peering around her twice before finally entering through.

It was quite strange, really, seeing the other side for the first time. She had rarely seen so many people without the excuse of a social gathering. Even then, she did not quite like speaking to them, and so did not see many. Tempest looked around her, and shook her head irritably, shaking any excitement from her head so as to search. It was quite near to eleven by this point, and the train would arrive at any moment. She stayed by one of the pillars, far away from the families that waited about absent-mindedly. There was very minimal entertainment in it, but it was the only distraction she had.

Finally, the train pulled in, and students flooded out immediately. It was quite a while before she saw Draco's head over the crowds. For a few minutes, he only stayed in between two rather bulky boys that Tempest had seen once or twice at some of the parties the Malfoys held. She had never wished to speak to them, and did not bother now until they moved along, and Draco was left alone. Satisfied with the clearing, she finally made her way towards him.

"What're you doing here?" he asked suspiciously upon seeing her.

"Narcissa didn't take it as well as I thought she would," she replied with an awkward smile. Draco nodded- he had received the news the day after the battle. He closed his eyes momentarily, then with a sigh nodded.

"Then we should go." Tempest frowned. It seemed Narcissa wasn't the only person to take Lucius's imprisonment harshly. She placed a had gently on his shoulder, as she would have Narcissa if she had been permitted near her.

"He's going to come back. It's just a…punishment, I guess."

"A punishment?" he repeated, grimacing at the word.

"I never said a fair one. After all, Voldemort-"

At the mention of the word, Draco's hand flew up as if to strike her, but Tempest caught his arm in her hand quickly. She shook her head.

"Fear in a name only increases fear in the thing itself."

"You're a very foolish person, you know."

"Of course I know. And you are foolish to find a name frightening, I must say. But if it satisfies you, _he_ does not care for fair punishment. It wasn't Lucius's fault, but it doesn't make a difference. He will be freed soon enough. It's been done before, it can be done again."

Draco sighed, and took hold of his trunk.

"Then I suppose I shall have to think along those lines," he said quietly. "How did you get here, anyway? You can't Apparate."

"Portkey," she replied, holding up the cloak. Draco smiled ever so slightly, and then they were gone.

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"Narcissa?" Tempest said gently, knocking upon the door. "Narcissa, Draco's here." She paused. "_Your son_." Draco's lip twitched slightly, though he couldn't bring himself to smile. He hadn't even been able to bring himself to speak to his own mother for the time being. It seemed to him that despite Narcissa's mutual hatred for Tempest, it would be best for her to speak.

"Bellatrix will be getting bored of Rodolphus soon enough," she said slowly, thinking through in her head. "And she'll be coming here as soon as possible, won't she?" There was silence from the other side of the door, and Draco tilted his head slightly in confusion. Tempest sighed. "And if I can't persuade you out of her, she certainly can't. So what's the first thing she's gonna do?"

Again, nothing.

"She is going to blow the door off its hinges, Narcissa."

Within moments, they heard the creak of the bed moving slightly and Narcissa rushing to the door.

"I'm certain she wouldn't," Narcissa said in a hoarse voice, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes absent-mindedly, "but it wouldn't do to remain in a bedroom for so long." Tempest smiled slightly, resisting the temptation to laugh. Narcissa's eyes flickered about her for a second before finding Draco leaning against the opposite wall, at which point a gentle enough smile spread across her lips.

"How long have you been in there?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, not very long, dear, not very long." She paused, and suddenly glared towards Tempest. "You haven't been saying things again, have you?"

"You know me, Narcissa, I never say things," she replied coolly, turning slightly to leave. Narcissa gritted her teeth in an uncharacteristic manner.

"Don't turn away from me like that," Narcissa snapped, to Tempest's mild interest.

"You can not order me about," she replied lightly. "You're not my mother."

"But while you are living under _my_ roof, you will do as I say!" Tempest laughed lightly.

"I should be packing my bags now, anyway. I won't be under your roof for much longer, will I?" Narcissa frowned in confusion, and Tempest turned to face her, folding her arms. "Severus said last year that I would be able to spend the summers with him."

"I highly doubt it," Narcissa muttered.

"Perhaps not in those words. But he has not disregarded the fact, and he knows that I have assumed it. So he will have no trouble taking me in again." Lifting her chin proudly, Tempest continued as she had first intended, Narcissa glaring after her.

"And what are you going to do if- when- when he says no."

"He has very little choice in the matter." Leaving little chance for another word, Tempest turned again and was out of sight before Narcissa could even react.

"_Accio trunk_," she muttered the moment her door opened, and the trunk flew into her hand, already unopened. Tempest raised an eyebrow- she was sure enough she had locked it- but pursued the matter no more than a glancing thought. She knew very well she had until perhaps two days onwards before she could leave without entering an empty house. Entering without permission was one thing, but breaking and entering was another. It was a slim line of difference, but it was definitely there. As she thought of it, a quiet knock sounded upon the door frame. Tempest sighed.

"You know, you really should be comforting your mother."

"She went back to her room just after you left," Draco replied. Tempest paused before turning to look at him.

"Don't you want to be alone?"

"I think I can survive without locking myself away for months on end." Tempest nodded, and returned to her packing. There was a prolonged silence before Draco spoke again. "For someone who's so great at reading people, you are a bit of an idiot, you know."

"I'm sure I am, Draco, but I guess you want to tell me why."

"Gladly. She's going to be alone, Tempest. When I go back to Hogwarts." Again, Tempest paused, and looked towards Draco.

"What are you talking about?"

"Bellatrix is always on some mission of sorts. I guess it would have been bad enough when my father and you were always out of the house during the year."

"Severus will send me back before the school year starts," Tempest pointed out.

"She knows that's not how things will happen, Tempest. The only reason you've ever come back here is for my father."

"I can not help it is she dislikes me, can I?"

"Or that you dislike her. No one's asking you to get along."

"Then what are you asking of me, Draco?" she asked quietly. "I do not like her, and she does not like me. I have tried time and again to tell her Lucius will return, and Bellatrix certainly will. I can do no more to satisfy her."

Draco frowned, then nodded.

"Just…maybe try and be a bit gentler?"

Tempest snorted in disgust, shaking her head.

"You can't possibly be asking _me_ to be _gentler_? I've been nothing but until shouting was required."

Without replying to the thought, Draco simply shrugged and turned from the room. Tempest frowned, irritated by the sudden silence he left, and could not refrain from calling out to him after he had left.

"You're a real twit, Draco!"

The only reply she heard was one of slightly laughter, but it was quickly quietened by the increasing distance.

"I really hate that boy," she muttered to herself, throwing a pair of socks into the trunk.


	23. Chapter 23

_Well, I'll choose the life I've taken, never mind the friends I'm making  
__And the beauty that I'm faking lets me live my life like this  
__-Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us, My Chemical Romance_

It didn't take that long for Severus to announce his return from Hogwarts. She almost jumped from her seat when Tempest saw him step out of the fireplace, unannounced.

"You could have sent an owl," she said, scowling.

"It would have been no use, they're all being intercepted," Severus replied, his eyes not concentrating. "Where is Narcissa?"

"Why d'you ask?" Severus wrinkled his nose.

"Like it or not, I still hold a loyalty to this family, and Narcissa is part of it. She's always been dependent on Lucius."

"As if I hadn't guessed," she said, looking towards the doorway. "You wouldn't want to see her right now. She hasn't left her bedroom for the past few weeks." As Severus moved to speak again, Tempest interrupted. "And she won't leave for anyone. I tried threatening her with Bellatrix again, but it didn't work. She's more stubborn than I gave her credit for."

Severus pointedly ignored the comment before striding from the room. Tempest did not even bother reminding him that Narcissa would see no one; he was almost as stubborn as Narcissa, and she could persuade neither. After noting this, she realised quite suddenly that she was still to remind Severus of her intended intrusion to Spinner's End. With a slight spring to her step, Tempest left the room to find her trunk, neatly packed as she had left it.

"Where're you off to?" Draco asked as they passed briefly at one of the many hallways.

"Where do you think? I'm getting my trunk."

Draco arched an eyebrow, staring at her with a certain amount of distain.

"You're serious?"

"Since when am I ever not serious, Draco? Of course I'm serious!" She quickly continued down the hallway, utterly oblivious to the blatant scowl on Draco's features.

Tempest hadn't quite realised how heavy the trunk was until she started to drag it from under her bed. Ignoring the fact gladly, she dragged it with some sort of difficulty behind her down the hallway, wincing at the thought of the carpet dragging up as she did so- one of the few traits she seemed to have learnt from Narcissa over the years. The house was oddly quiet apart from the distant scatter of the house elves at work, though they were barely noticeable. At last she reached Narcissa's doorway, the very moment that Severus left it. Tempest raised an eyebrow, staring in an almost accusing manner.

"Don't be so childish," Severus said, wrinkling his nose at the way that she looked at him. "I gave her a potion, I assumed she wouldn't have slept in some time."

"Well, aren't you the saint."

"Looking at your trunk, I assume you seem to think I am?"

"Not a saint, simply a man of his word." Severus paused, then shook his head.

"I do not recall promising you board for more than one summer."

"I am sure you did. Even if you did not, I will waste no opportunity to leave the manor, Severus." Tempest sighed, looking around her. "I am sure even you would not deny me the chance."

"How are you so sure?"

"You haven't said no yet," she stated, smiling slightly. Slightly impressed by the reasoning, Severus nodded, then turned back towards the parlour.

"I still can not fathom why you are so desperate to leave," Severus said after a minute's pause. "I had the impression you had come to quite a liking for Draco."

"Then you thought wrong," Tempest said with a slight sniff. "I haven't a clue why everyone assumes the idea."

"Perhaps because you have not torn each others throats out for some time now."

"Which does not at all mean that we intend to marry each other!"

"It is simply a matter that I am sure many have thought over."

"Other than myself and Draco," she muttered in return, suddenly realising that she had been left to drag the trunk by herself. She debated whether or not to ask for help, then realised that it was some form of childish punishment she was expected to go through.

"Do you not at least wish to say goodbye?" he asked in a slightly less bored tone than the one which he was often found to use, but nonetheless a bored one.

"Not particularly," she replied. She paused. "I will most likely hear from him or see him if anything important arises." Severus nodded in reply, without much to put forward, and remained silent until they finally passed through the fireplace into Spinner's End again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Death Eaters were called together more often than Tempest had previously hoped. They were of little importance to her, and little had they actually to do with her. Instead, they were often secluded in one of the smaller rooms, including only a select few. Tempest was rarely one of those select few, for which she was quite glad despite the fact that she was still expected to arrive.

Severus, of course, was expected at each and every meeting. He never revealed anything that was spoken of behind those doors, no matter how much Tempest begged- she was never interested in complying to demands, but rather liked to know what they were in the first place. Still, it did not stop her being ignored from the processions. They became more frequent, every other day sometimes. All that was known throughout those who were not included was that a new plot was being formed.

"He's angry," Tempest overheard one of the Death Eaters she had not yet been able to name say while they were gathered at the staircase. "Been told he's never seemed so angry. He lost his biggest chance, didn't he?"

"It's not likely he's going to be able to touch Harry, you know," Tempest said quietly, though the words caused everyone to look up at her in surprise. "It's true, though, isn't it? They're always there, the Order."

"The Order ain't the problem," the same Death Eater replied, tapping his nose. "Who's the one who's always there at the last minute? It happened five years ago, with that Quirrel bloke- who was there to help him at the very last minute? Dumbledore!"

"Who's at Hogwarts," another of the men mentioned quickly. "Nothing much can be done there."

"Severus works at Hogwarts, though," Tempest said slowly. A small trickle of laughter scattered across the men.

"Snape, kill Dumbledore? We all know he's too much of a coward. Too comfortable under Dumbledore's thumb. Anyway, even if he weren't, the Dark Lord's far too smart for that old trick. It's far too soon- we'd be caught. Back in Azkaban before you know it."

"Without control of the Ministry there's nothing he can make us do without risking Azkaban."

"Who said we need control of the Ministry?" he said, smirking slightly. "All you need is control of the Dementors, don't you? They're the ones who handle everything, Minister just thinks he's got the power with them."

"Why would Dementors want to side with us?" Tempest asked, shaking her head. "They've no use in defeating the Order, nothing to gain."

"I'm sure they do," the man replied, though a crease appeared in his forehead as he thought. Tempest smiled inwardly at his confusion, but did not bother to show it. At last, the meeting finished, and the few that were there came out. Bellatrix had her usual smile playing upon her features, obviously ecstatic at having been 'chosen'. She still had not managed to get past the delight. Severus was still as unreadable as ever, though he was somewhat more stern-faced than he had been before.

"What's happened?" Tempest asked the moment she could speak to him.

"Nothing of importance to you, I can assure you."

"I don't care if it is of importance to me or not!" Severus paused, then sighed.

"The Dark Lord has told of us of his…plan, let us say."

"Then should you not be happier? You seemed so morose when you left the meeting." A quick glare told Tempest half of what she needed to know.

"His plan includes a new Death Eater, I'll have you know. Draco." She paused, then shook her head.

"But Draco can't be of much use to him. It won't be long and he'll be back at Hogwarts."

"Precisely. I heard those fools telling you about Dumbledore- as much as I hate to admit it, they were right. The Dark Lord wishes for him to die, otherwise Potter will be untouchable. And it is the Dark Lord's wishes that Draco will be the one to carry out the task."

"You work at Hogwarts, though," Tempest pointed out thoughtfully. "If that was his plan why would he bother getting Draco to do it? A new Death Eater? Why not you?"

"Why do you think?" he snapped irritably. She paused again, then sighed.

"Lucius."

"It's all just a punishment in His eyes," Severus continued, his teeth clenched. With a small smile, Tempest laughed inwardly.

"Strange how even you could value the innocence of a child."

"That is not the matter at hand. I simply find it of no use to the Dark Lord to sentence a child to his death."

"His death?" Severus stopped, looking finally at Tempest with slightly curious eyes, which become quickly angered again.

"If he does not succeed, the Dark Lord will spare no mercy."

The two were silent. Neither of them had realised they had long returned to Spinner's End. Neither of them realised the time that had passed. They simply resumed what was left of the night in silence, with little need to say anything.


	24. Chapter 24

_I want you to know that I see  
All the reasons why you fail  
__- Eyes To See, Flyleaf_

Draco's initiation came quicker than was first thought. It seemed that the Dark Lord wished to waste no time in gaining another asset. Even Severus was surprised at the abrupt choice. Nothing had been mentioned of it, it had simply happened.

There was very little notice beforehand until they were all called to the hall. Some did not know until the very last minute, and almost burst into laughter at seeing Draco walk through the doors. Tempest was almost close to admitting herself that he did seem somewhat out of place, despite how he had grown throughout the years. He was much taller than she was, and seemed slightly older, yet surrounded by the Death Eaters, he seemed nothing more than a child.

She could not take her eyes away from Voldemort's wand as the spell was performed, though she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Narcissa had been ordered to the processions, and her eyes were wide and slightly fearful. There was little chance to give any words of comfort, and so Tempest continued to watch Draco with curious interest.

The spell looked more painful than she had remembered it. Draco was surprisingly controlled, showing few signs of pain, but Tempest could quite easily see the way his teeth gritted and his shoulders shook slightly. But as quickly as it had started, it finished. An audible sigh of relief emerged from Draco's lips as the wand was finally pulled away from his skin, though to his fortune it was not noticed by many.

There was a pause, only a minor pause that lasted barely a second, but seemed more than a lifetime, in which Lord Voldemort was silent.

"I wish for those who I have chosen to remain behind," he said in his quiet, high voice, causing a few to visibly shudder. They bowed, and almost too quickly turned to leave the hall.

"Potter," he added as Tempest reached the doorway. "I wish for you to join this meeting." Tempest smiled inwardly, mostly due to the glares that she received from many of the other Death Eaters. She looked towards those who still remained in the centre of the hall, and saw Severus look briefly towards her. She allowed a small smile to appear on her lips. Perhaps he had mentioned her name in good nature.

"The young Malfoy does not yet know of his part to play in the plan," Voldemort said quietly, his voice barely audible until it echoed. Tempest assumed by this that he already knew Severus had told her of the plan, and listened carefully without question. "We have but five weeks until he is to go back to Hogwarts. Bella," he said sharply, causing Bellatrix to look up quickly with a slight spark in her eye.

"My Lord?"

"I know you are skilled in Occlumency, I wish for you to teach the boy." In reply, she nodded, and her eyes glittered slightly when seeing Severus. "Do not be proud, Bella, it is not a trait that is required. Severus will be occupied with other business."

Bellatrix's teeth gritted slightly, and then she nodded, looking down towards the floor again. Voldemort turned to look at the others around him, and then settled his eyes on Severus.

"I have something I believe to be of use to you, Severus, which I can say is of no use to me any longer." The initial look of curiosity that threatened to betray his calm manner ands disgust etched itself onto his features the moment that Pettigrew was pushed forward. The alarm on his face told them that Pettigrew hadn't heard of this arrangement either.

"M-m-my L-lord?" he stammered, looking up with fearful eyes. The Dark Lord took little notice of Pettigrew's fears, and nor did anyone else. The irritation was plain upon Severus's face, but he was smart enough to not speak of it.

"I believe he will be of use to aid you," Lord Voldemort continued, causing Pettigrew to let out a dry sob of degradation.

"My Lord, I must thank you for your generosity," Severus replied, though his face and tone showed none of the gratitude he had obviously hoped to display. The comment was accepted with a simple nod of the head, and though it seemed plain that the Dark Lord wished to continue with the meeting, Pettigrew could not stop himself from interrupting for a moment longer.

"M'Lord, I must- I- the Potter girl, she is now residing with Severus, is she not?"

"I little see how it is business of yours, Wormtail," Voldemort hissed. Pettigrew flinched, but was far too determined to be deterred.

"I simply wished to ask, my Lord, why does she not assist Severus? She is, after all, already stationed for the position."

Pettigrew quickly again shrunk, his beady eyes wide with fear as the Dark Lord glared contemptuously down at his servant. Bellatrix yet again let a small smirk set upon her lips, while others simply watched with either morbid interest or loathing towards the small man.

"Wormtail," Lord Voldemort said slowly, his voice sounding more like a snake's hiss with each syllable. "I have never had reason to doubt your loyalty before, though it does make me wonder when you so blatantly speak against my orders."

A small whimper emitted from Pettigrew's lips, an he shook uncontrollably. It was not often that Lord Voldemort so blatantly displayed his anger. He was usually far more fearsome when he lulled his victims into a false sense of security. To see him so angry almost scared the others enough to shake. All of a sudden, a smirk formed on Voldemort's own thin lips. It was not the delighted sort that Bellatrix sported, but a more malicious one. His head spun quickly towards Tempest, his eyes burning.

"To my knowledge, dear, you have never partaken in a raid, have you?" The question sounded so simple that it seemed strange to hear, and it was so off topic that each of the Death Eaters blinked several times in shock.

"Pardon?" she asked slowly- she did not bother with adding the title 'my Lord' afterwards, it had never been something she did, and always earned her a grimace of sorts.

"You have not partaken in a raid?"

"I do not think so- no, I haven't." He laughed, sneering and turning again to look at Pettigrew, his smirk growing larger.

"Then, my dear, I do believe that you have never practised the art of…punishment, shall we say."

Again, Pettigrew whimpered, but it was more desperate before. Tempest looked down at him, her own eyes wider than they had been before. She had never- as Voldemort had so eloquently put it- _punished_ anyone before. It had not been something she had ever thought of, though on the infrequent events where torture had ever been used she had despised it with all her being.

"I believe Bellatrix is much more skilled in that area than I am," she murmured, far too surprised to speak with any more volume in her voice.

"It is not Bellatrix I have asked." Though the words were calm, the tone was still anything but. Tempest's eyes flickered to Bellatrix, who seemed quite doubtful at this point, back to the man in front of her, if a man he could be called. She swallowed thickly.

"If you expect me to _torture_ him, you will be sorely disappointed, I haven't the passion for it."

"Then you will find it," he said pointedly, pushing Pettigrew forward. His whimpers became more desperate, and he looked at her with a pleading expression. Tempest could not help but stare back, though slightly more disgusted with the manner that he wept. It was pitiful, almost sickening, though she could not find it in herself to at all find it sickening enough to torture him.

"He is not mine to punish," Tempest said weakly, thinking it slightly more persuasive than simply being unable to torture.

"I have given you a specific command, Potter." She looked up, averting those red eyes for as long as possible, and succeeded quite well until she heard the word _Crucio_. In the very last second she had, she saw those eyes burning into her very flesh, and the burning soon became literal as the curse took hold of her. The only sound she could hear was her own screaming- despite having been through the curse once before, the pain was still so unbearable that it did not numb over time.

At last, the curse was lifted, and Tempest found herself again on the floor, gasping for breath. She looked up, trembling, to see that none could look at her directly. Bellatrix was far too distracted with her lust for torture to think of Tempest, and Rodolphus seemed disgusted at the lack of enthusiasm Tempest displayed for the act. The others simply didn't watch.

"You _will_ obey the commands I give you, Potter," the Dark Lord hissed, his fingers still firmly wrapped around the wand. Tempest could not let her eyes leave that wand, knowing what would come if she stood her ground much longer. She nodded slowly, and rose to her feet again. A small, satisfied smirk came across Lord Voldemort's thin lips, and another terrified whimper came from Pettigrew, who had been far too frightened to move.

Tempest swallowed thickly, and with the haste she did not think she would use, stretched out her hand towards Pettigrew and muttered the curse.

Nothing.

The smirk that had been on Voldemort's lips soon disappeared, and a scowl was apparent as well as his anger.

"You disappoint me, Potter," he said quietly, his eyes flaming yet again. "I recommend you try again."

Again, his words sounded far too calm compared to the tone with which he said them. Tempest nodded slowly, still looking at Pettigrew, who despite all the doubt that had been displayed still whimpered pitifully.

But even the second time, nothing happened.

There was no denying that everyone in the room knew what was going to happen now. The Dark Lord seemed to have long forgotten about Pettigrew. For a short moment, the excitement on Bellatrix's face was hidden by fear. Most still could not watch.

"This meeting is over," Voldemort whispered, his voice still quiet. "Leave us now."

There was no need to say Tempest would not be leaving for some time.

_A/N- I'm extremely sorry, these chapter are getting shorter and shorter, I really shouldn't be doing that. Hopefully they'll get logner :D Yet again, and this happening a lot, I've noticed people are only looking at this story, they're not giving any feedback. Guys, seriously, if you think I'm doing something good, could you tell me? I'd love to hear. And if you think I'm doing something bad, tell me so I can correct it. I know I'm doing something wrong or right, so throw me a bone? :D_


	25. Chapter 25

_Well don't be shy  
I've got an open heart and hand  
And I just might have to confess just where I stand  
__-I Won't Disagree, Katy Voegele_

There was little Severus could do after that other than watch Tempest with a curious concern. She hadn't spoken much since she returned to Spinner's End- strange, really, as little to nothing could render her to such an attitude nowadays. Severus had certainly never seen her in such a way before. She simply sat there, her knees drawn under her chin, her eyes staring somewhere utterly unknown. There was no use in even speaking aloud to her.

It carried on for some time. Not an extended period, really, perhaps only a few days. But it was long enough. Those few days were long enough for the Dark Lord to have made his plans for Draco certain, and it would not be long before they were summoned again.

Severus sat at the parlour, absent-mindedly staring at _The Daily Prophet_, when Tempest appeared quite out of the blue at the doorway. He looked up and tilted his head inquisitively. She still didn't look at all healthier compared to when she first came back. Bruises were still left bold against her skin, and a few scars were still visible. She hadn't been able to eat for some time and her clothes already began to sag slightly.

"It's quite late, you know," Severus said, looking towards the clock. Tempest looked briefly, then simply shrugged limply, and then quickly collapsed into the armchair where she had spent most of her time.

"Wormtail," he called, and in only a few moments Pettigrew appeared in the room, his beady eyes slightly wide, though more irritable than fearful. "Fetch us some tea. Now."

Pettigrew clenched his jaw, as if about to argue, but thought better of it and scurried away quickly.

"I'm quite sure Draco will have begun his training now," Severus said, attempting to fill the silence. Even if Tempest would not reply, he was quite sure that she could hear him. "We are sure the training is minimal. Bellatrix has already begun teaching him Occlumency. He is practising his wand work alone, I'm sure."

No reply. There was a pause of silence before Severus continued.

"There may be a meeting any day soon, you know," he continued, placing _The Daily Prophet_ on the nearby table. "I understand you may not be in a position to speak _now_, but he will expect you to speak if needed when the time comes. It would only be worse for you if you didn't."

Slowly, she nodded in reply. Her head lowered slightly in thought, and with what seemed to be a large amount of effort she looked up again and swallowed.

"How do you do it?" she asked. Her voice was hoarse and quiet, but Severus was definitely sure that she had spoken.

"Pardon?"

"How do you do it? Just…any of it." Seeing the still confused expression Severus held, Tempest bit her lip before continuing again. "How do you…torture people- how do you handle torture itself? I'll never be able to do it, Severus, I won't!" The sudden desperation in her tone came as quite a surprise, though Severus managed to keep himself composed as Tempest brought herself to the brink of tears.

"It is not something you can simply 'handle'."

"Then tell me how to _do_ it because I shan't put myself through that again!" The tears were clearly visible now. Severus sighed; she could not help being foolish, he supposed, but it brought him no pleasure being the one to have to tell her she was.

"There is nothing _I_ can do to help you torture even if I wanted to."

"You would prefer I was punished again?" she asked shakily.

"I do not believe the Dark Lord would ask you to torture on demand again. And as for any raids, it won't exactly matter."

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"I simply am."

"You cannot simply be sure, Severus!" Tempest said shrilly, wiping away a tear. "You cannot be sure unless there is evidence- I won't let you be sure unless you give me a good enough reason to be sure!"

Severus couldn't quite find it in himself to answer for some time, and instead the two were left in a silence. Tempest sniffed irritably and quickly left her seat to retrieve the cloak that lay strewn across a chair carelessly.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"If you refuse to help me, I'm sure Draco will be more than happy to." Severus shook his head, and could not help but laugh slightly.

"You think he is any more likely to be able to help you? He hasn't even seen torture yet, I should think, how would he be able to teach you anything about _killing_?"

"He would at least try, which is more than I can say for you!"

And so, with no inclination to do otherwise, Severus watched Tempest as she stormed from the room, and only a moment later he heard a faint _pop_ from a portkey. He had never bothered to teach her Apparation, and assumed she was pleased enough with portkeys. Severus did not bother to follow after her; he knew that she would not be silly enough to go anywhere except the Malfoy Manor and if she so chose to leave Spinners End, he would not complain. Though what nonsense was it to think she would leave so easily?

* * *

"Haven't I always said never to trust Severus?" Bellatrix exclaimed triumphantly. "I've never approved of him!"

"You'd very rarely trust a man closer to the Dark Lord than yourself," Narcissa said thoughtfully, turning the page of her book absent-mindedly, as though she were not reading the book at all.

"I don't care if he is favoured," she replied, with a slightly false tone. "Isn't it obvious, though? While he's working for us, he's comfortable under Dumbledore's thumb, and you can never be too sure of someone who's _too_ comfortable in his place. There's just something about it that seems too unnatural."

"It isn't at all his work with Dumbledore that makes him a nuisance," Tempest said quietly, still far too angered to speak. "It is his lack of enthusiasm to assistance."

"Perhaps it's just you he doesn't like?" Draco offered. "He's only ever been helpful to Slytherins really, never many other people."

"What exactly have I done? It's not exactly like we're at Hogwarts."

"You see? An old coot who can't be trusted to judge character!"

"You're three years his senior, Trixie." Tempest could not help but laugh at Narcissa's comment, though Bellatrix pulled a face of disgust.

"Physical youth doesn't make a man any less of a coot."

Tempest and Narcissa laughed raucously while Draco smiled and shook his head. It was strange, Tempest thought to herself, how much she had missed such conversations. They had been few and sparse when she had lived in the Malfoy Manor, though she did not realise until this moment how much she had enjoyed them. Light conversation was a pleasure that she could not often indulge in with Severus. For a brief moment, she wondered why she had left. She ran her fingers quickly through the still rather short amount of hair left on her head, and saw the disapproving glance from Narcissa.

Then she remembered.

"Isn't he going to be expecting you back at some point soon?" Draco asked all of a sudden, lazily turning his wand in his fingers. Bellatrix gently slapped at his hand.

"A wand isn't a play-thing, Draco." Then she paused. "He's right, though, Tempest."

"You honestly want me crawling back to him? Not until he will teach me more." Bellatrix sighed, shaking her head.

"You know I'd teach you if I could, but it's not like I can teach you to _want_ to hurt someone. It's not something you learn, it's something you do."

"I refuse to believe that there isn't some way he can help."

"You've always been far too stubborn for your own good, you know," Narcissa said quietly. Bellatrix heard, however, and laughed again loudly.

"Cissy, if it were up to you the world would be dressed in lace and we'd only ever drink tea."

"I'm sure we'd be a lot happier as well," she replied, nodding proudly.

"Speak for yourself," Bellatrix said, still sniggering slightly. "Lace was made for the fancy and tea was made for the silly."

"Thank you, Trixie," Narcissa said with great offence, but quickly passing by it with a slight smile. Tempest and Draco's eyes caught each other once, which was enough to set them into peals of laughter at the scene in front of them.

"Don't you two start laughing," said Bellatrix, shaking her head at the two. "One day you'll like each other well enough to insult without threat."

"And yet it's still so much fun not bothering to insult at all," Tempest replied.

"Or threatening."

"But we wouldn't expect you to wish to exercise that sort of attitude." Bellatrix smiled broadly.

"Then you know me far too well." She looked up briefly again at the grandfather clock and sighed. "I never like to have to send you off, Tempest, but it's probably time you left."

"You're probably right," Tempest admitted with a sigh. "He has all my things, anyway. I wouldn't be able to hide out that long."

"And I'm sure he's wondering what's happened to you," Narcissa pointed out lightly. Tempest could not help but snort in disbelief.

"I'm sure he's not. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he doesn't care whether or not I came back at all."


	26. Chapter 26

_You'll cheat and lie  
__And you won't stop until  
__You've stole the glimmer from my eye  
__But not tonight  
__-Out of Reach, Voltaire_

When Tempest arrived back at Spinner's End, she assumed Severus had left out of boredom or some form of meeting. It wasn't until she heard a clinking from down the hallway that she realised he was in the potions cupboard. Strange, she thought, as he had never quite taken very much delight in making potions, even if it was a speciality.

"Severus?" she called down the hallway, and immediately the sound stopped. After a brief moment's pause, his footsteps could be heard and in moments he appeared at the doorway.

"You're back then?"

"Obviously." He paused again, then continued.

"I have to leave for an hour, maybe more, I'm not sure."

"Then why are you looking through the potions cupboard?"

"Why do you think?" Tempest paused, then continued.

"I don't see why you bother with that. Weren't you given Pettigrew for a reason?" Severus paused and looked at her bitterly.

"You think that I am foolish enough to allow _him_ amongst my possessions?"

"Fair enough." Tempest continued to watch Severus bustling about for the next few minutes and waited until he finally had packed a small satchel to speak out again. "I'm coming with you."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Statement, of course."

"A false one at that. You're not coming."

It took Tempest a moment to register the fact before finally allowing herself to become dreadfully annoyed.

"And why not? It can't be that important."

"If it isn't that important then why do you wish to come along?"

"Because I'm so dreadfully bored that I advise you bring me for your own health."

"A good enough threat, but I'm not listening. Just go an find something else to do while I'm out."

"I want to go with you." She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to go, but Tempest was definitely sure that whatever Severus wanted to keep a secret was of interest to her in some way or another.

"Well, I want you to stay here. So you are going to stay here."

Tempest quickly took hold of the vial Severus had taken from the closet and held it behind her back.

"Well, now you can't leave, can you? So either take me or stay." Severus paused, watching Tempest as if to dare her to continue with her silly little games.

"You really are bored, aren't you?" Tempest smiled in return. "Fine. But you're going to stay put where I tell you to."

"No I'm not."

"And you're going to behave well."

"No I won't."

"Will you ever just do as I tell you?"

"I don't think so." Severus sighed irritably, and snatched the vial that was now offered to him by the now grinning young girl.

"I really don't know why I bother asking you anymore," he said while placing the vial carefully in his satchel. Tempest quickly took hold of his arm before he could change his mind. He gave the smallest of smiles out of acknowledgement rather than any form of happiness.

The room disappeared quicker than Tempest had thought it would, and they then found themselves on the outskirts of a small village. It was dark outside- almost too dark to see anything were it not for the distant lights.

"You could have given me a little more warning," Tempest muttered irritably, blinking rapidly. "I've never liked Apparation that much."

"It's no worse than a portkey."

"For you, maybe." She paused to look around, and it suddenly dawned upon Tempest that she hadn't the slightest clue where they were. "Where did you say you had to go?"

"I didn't."

"Well, where are we then?" Severus didn't reply, but instead moved forward down the dimly lit path. Tempest followed hastily, more curious than before by this point. It was quite difficult for some time; more often than not those she was with would walk slightly slower to allow her to match their speed, but Severus wasted no time in walking briskly down the path.

"Severus!" she finally called irritably, and though he would not slow his pace he turned his head slightly to show that he was listening. "I don't understand what can be so important that you have to practically _run_ to this place."

"A man's life," he replied simply. Tempest almost stopped in surprise, but thought better of it.

"Who's life?"

Again, she received no answer.

Tempest rarely looked up from the floor as they walked, careful not to trip on anything while surrounded by the dark. It wasn't until about two minutes on that she noticed the previously dim lights were brighter now. Not much brighter, but definitely brighter. Then it dawned on her.

"I thought no one was here during the summer," she said, slightly breathless.

"Usually there aren't."

"Usually? Severus, what's going on?"

The usual silence. Tempest didn't expect any longer to be given any information until they reached Hogwarts. The journey all of a sudden became a lot shorter, and before she could gather her wits, they were charging up an unfamiliar staircase. She looked up to see a few portraits looking at them curiously, while others were fast asleep and completely unaware of them.

"_Cockroach clusters_," Severus muttered to the stone gargoyle they suddenly found themselves faced with. Tempest arched an eyebrow, and seeing it, Severus couldn't help but laugh somewhat nervously. "I never did understand his choice in passwords."

Nodding in understanding, Tempest followed Severus up the staircase that the gargoyle revealed. A slight excitement began to build in her chest, but Tempest did not allow herself to become overexcited in any other way. When someone's life was at risk, no good could come from the visit.

She was right.

Tempest knew immediately who the man was when she entered the room.

She stood frozen at the doorway as Severus took hold of his potions and mixed them in a manner she hadn't seen before, but did not question. She didn't know what to question, really. Here was the man it was evident the Dark Lord had wanted dead for so long. Tempest had rarely seen a man killed in front of her, and never by Severus, so wished desperately to close her eyes. For some reason or another, she couldn't.

That was when she finally heard the sharp intake of breath.

Upon hearing the sound, Tempest jumped slightly and looked forward clearly again. She didn't know what to expect upon looking up, and so hadn't really a clue how to react when she saw Albus Dumbledore stirring, as if awakened from a particularly deep sleep. Severus took a step back, then cleared his throat.

"You shouldn't have been so foolish," he said he said lowly, looking down at the man's hand, which Tempest now realised was black and withered. Dumbledore looked at it with a certain curiosity.

"I was far too tempted, Severus," he replied, his tone much lighter than anyone had expected. His eyes flickered across his arm to the ring on his finger. For a moment, a single moment, they flickered upwards. It was enough to catch his attention. Tempest could not help but freeze again. To her surprise, the man merely smiled at her. "Ah, so you decided to bring her with you?"

"Not in those words exactly." The annoyance in his voice was not towards her, Tempest thought, but rather a still maintained annoyance with Dumbledore, who he still stared at. Dumbledore in turn ignored this, and continued to watch Tempest. She quickly regained her power of speech for a moment, long enough to blurt out:

"I thought you were going to kill him." She looked at Severus as she said it, and he in turn arched an eyebrow.

"And why would he do a thing like that?" Dumbledore asked, tilting his head slightly. It took a second or so for Tempest to summon an answer.

"That's what Voldemort wants! He wants you dead, and you were just- you were just sitting there!"

"That is true, my dear, that is true." With a somewhat playful smile, Dumbledore turned his head to Severus. "That is a very good question, isn't it? Why _didn't_ you kill me, Severus?"

Though it was impossible to believe, Tempest was sure she saw an embarrassed expression upon Severus's features. His fists clenched ever so slightly and he bowed his head.

"You've made your point."

"I have no idea what you mean," Dumbledore said, chuckling. "You must at least trust her enough to allow her to come here."

"Trust me with what?" Her voice was quiet, but Tempest had no problem in catching each of their attentions with the simple question. There was a pause before Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and rested his hands on the desk, his bright, blue eyes staring into hers. It was a surprise to hear that his tone become considerably more serious as he spoke again in comparison to his previously light hearted speech.

"Severus tells me that you have been Marked."

"Yes," she answered briskly.

"Unwillingly."

"Yes," she said, though paused out of a form of embarrassment before replying.

"You were raised by the Malfoys, were you not? I would have thought you would have been happy with your position as a Death Eater?"

"What you really want to know is whether I believe what they believe."

"You're certainly sharper than I had first thought," he said, his smile coming back slightly. "Perhaps I would like to know whether you believe what they believe."

"Is it not enough that I do not wish to be a Death Eater? I never needed an opinion before and don't have one now."

"What a strange way of thinking," he mused before looking towards Severus again. "And I expect you haven't taught her anything about the Order?"

"_He_ didn't need to teach me anything," Tempest interrupted before Severus could begin to speak. "Anything I needed to know about the Order was learnt from the other Death Eaters."

"Apart from Severus's position?"

Tempest nodded.

"Then I shouldn't think he is any danger." As if the matter was sorted, he finally leant back in his chair and his smile returned brightly, his eyes sparkling slightly. Shocked, Tempest froze again.

"Is that it?"

"I can't think of anything else to discuss on the matter."

"How about whether or not I'd tell?" she asked, stunned. "Whether the information would be found out now that I know, whether or not I'd even _attempt_ to protect the Order, whether-"

"You are your father's daughter," Dumbledore interrupted calmly. "You wouldn't betray us."

"I have nothing to betray if I am not part of it," she retorted sharply. "How can I even understand the idea of being my father's daughter? If you remember correctly, he's _dead_."

"And if he were alive today he would wish for you to fight with us rather than against us."

"If you wanted me to fight with you then you would have not allowed me to live with the Malfoys." It was the first time any other emotion other than simple annoyance had been shown, and it left both Severus and Dumbledore quite taken aback. Tempest stopped for a moment, regaining her control. "What I want to know is-"

"Why you were left behind?" Shakily, she nodded.

"I had hoped that the late Sirius Black would have come for you, really. I should think that he would have taken you in if it weren't for the fact that he was overbearingly...frustrated, shall we say."

"You make it seem so simple," she spat petulantly. "Why didn't anyone come for me then? Why didn't I know until I practically _guessed_ it?" A hand was laid gently upon her shoulder, and though Tempest knew it to be Severus's, she still shivered as if it were a stranger's.

"You were perfectly safe with the Malfoys," Dumbledore replied after a moment's thought. "While you were in no danger I saw no reason to remove you from where you were comfortable."

"And how were you to know I was comfortable?"

"I have my ways of knowing," he said, his eyes flickering towards Severus. "Severus had updated me on your studies and such, as well as your personal well being."

"He wouldn't have had to if my brother was not favoured above me," she whispered, bowing her head slightly.

To this, Dumbledore had no reply.

The room went silent, and to Tempest's mild surprise Severus's hand did not remove itself from her shoulder. As the silence grew, Tempest could not halt the few tears that betrayed her.

"You're not even denying it."

"Perhaps you would like to wait outside," Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the door. "Severus and I have some matters to discuss."

But before Tempest could gather herself enough to move towards the door, she felt her knees buckle under her own weight and she fell to the floor. She was only vaguely aware of Severus catching her before everything went black.


	27. Chapter 27

_Before a thousand grasping hands  
In a glaring light she stands  
Trying hard to meet demands  
Everybody's girl  
- Everybody's Girl, Emile Autumn_

Tempest still couldn't quite see when she awoke. The first thing she realised was that she was still in the same room as before, and realised she mustn't have been unconscious for too long. The dim voices of Severus and Dumbledore could still be heard, and the memories all of a sudden came to her again. She halted the whimper that came to her throat, and succeeded in remaining silent.

She could hear only a few snippets of the conversation taking place as her head cleared. It was still quiet, but Tempest listened carefully for any word she could hear. As she began to hear each sound as clearly as the next, she could tell Severus was pacing agitatedly, and heard him stop all of a sudden.

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save." There was a slight pause, but one that seemed all too dramatic. "You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for the slaughter-"

"But this is touching, Severus. Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

"For _him_?" The words were spat with a form of disgust. "_Expecto patronum_!"

Unable to stop herself, Tempest opened one eye ever so slightly in time to see a graceful, silver doe protrude from Severus's wand. She hadn't seen a patronus used before, and had never really imagined what Severus's might have been. The doe sprang gracefully around the room once before disappearing through the window into the pitch black.

"After all this time?"

"Always."

Tempest did not dare to move as she allowed what had just been said to run through her head. In her confusion, she forgot to let her eyes close again and was quite shocked when Dumbledore addressed her.

"I see you've awoken, then." In her surprise, Tempest sat straight immediately, looking from Severus to Dumbledore. She nodded quickly, realising she hadn't replied.

"Good," he continued brightly, raising from his seat. "Well, it is extremely late, isn't it? Perhaps it would be best if you were off now."

Neither Tempest nor Severus decided to reply to this, and instead Severus nodded his head slightly and led Tempest from the room. It was slightly dizzying for her in some ways moving again, having not fully recovered, but she did not complain. It was not one of the main thoughts on her mind.

They silently agreed not to speak as they left the grounds of Hogwarts. Tempest fleetingly wondered what was to happen now that she was aware of Severus's position, but was easily distracted by her previous thoughts. The night was warm, and so there was no aspect of the weather to distract her from her thoughts, and she found the journey down the cobbled stones far easier than going up them. Severus was in no rush, and so was considerably slower than he had been before.

"Wait," she muttered as Severus held out an arm before they Apparated. "Dumbledore and you- you said something about Lily Potter- my mother, Lily, right?"

"I thought you were still unconscious," he replied, his voice quiet but not in any way annoyed as Tempest had expected.

"So you did talk about her?"

"Yes."

"What business have you with her?"

Severus did not reply, and paused before finally taking hold of her wrist to at last Apparate back to Spinner's End. Tempest did not protest against the abruptness of the journey, and was instead was patient enough to remain silent until Severus found it appropriate to speak again. It took him quite some time, but when he did speak again, after having sent Pettigrew from the parlour, his voice was more composed than she thought it would be.

"You will perhaps find out in some way or another," he said, sighing. "I suppose there will be less harm if I am the one to tell you."

Tempest thought better than to speak as Severus rose from his seat and moved towards the fireplace. Atop the mantelpiece there was a box that Tempest remembered seeing many times, and once being vaguely interested in, but never having really thought twice about. She watched carefully as Severus brought the key for the box out from his pocket and opened it, revealing several sheets of folded paper and a few old photographs. Without a word, he brought the box back to his chair, and held it out towards her.

"Just look. Whichever piece, it doesn't matter, it's all the same." Confused, Tempest took hold of the box and let her eyes pass briefly over it before taking hold of the first item; a letter. It all seemed a bit nonsensical at first. It wasn't until she registered the words that the letter made any sense. It was to Lily. She knew already it was from Severus, but could not help but be surprised at the words. The letter dated back quite some time, but she had even been born.

"You knew her?" she whispered under her breath.

"We were friends, really. Childhood friends."

"And you never even bothered to tell me?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. Severus did not reply. She dropped the letter back into the box and took hold of the photograph that lay beneath it. The photograph was slightly torn at the edges, but not very much. She could tell it was only about as old as the letter; Severus seemed so much younger in it. He was smiling in the picture, using his wand to guide a tail of glitter in front of him. A young Lily- it was strange to think of her as _mother_- smiled as she watched. It was clear that she was still vaguely new to the idea of magic, they couldn't have been more than twelve, and her eyes lit up somehow at the sight of it.

"You already knew she was muggle-born," Severus stated. "She never really became used to magic until she was fourteen, despite the fact she knew more about how to use a wand than most of the pure bloods."

"I don't think you're even bothering to hide the truth from me any more, Severus." Tempest could not help but whisper as she spoke.

"In what way?"

"The softness in your voice. You've never spoken so kindly of someone, not once. Not this kindly. And your expression has gone almost as gentle as your tone." She blinked twice before sighing. "You loved her."

There was no reply to this. Tempest continued to stare at the picture in her hand for a moment before Severus finally became impatient and wary. He held out his hand for the picture and box. Tempest looked from the photograph to his hand, still ever so slightly dazed.

Without warning, clutching the photograph firmly in her hand, she ran.

Tempest didn't remember that she had knocked the box to the floor, scattering the letters. She did not even give a second thought to Severus's shouting- it was much more fervent than it had ever been before. She simply ran to her room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it. The door didn't have a lock, so there was no use in trying to lock it. It wasn't long before he came to the door.

"Tempest," he said lowly, as calmly as he could. "Give me the picture back now."

"She was only your friend, she was my _mother_," Tempest called back, her voice louder than she knew was needed. She could not help but be selfish at this point, and clung the photograph closely to her.

"And that photograph wasn't yours to begin with. Tempest, give it back."

"Leave me alone!"

On the other side of the door, Severus let out a sound similar to that of a growl- he had never been infuriated to such a level. He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it towards the door.

"_Expulso!_" With more force than he had intended, the door was blown off its hinges and scattered across the room in fragments of wood. Tempest was still shaking from the sudden tears that had taken hold of her, though scowled defiantly through her tears. Upon seeing the state of the door, Tempest shakily held the photograph out for Severus who took it without a second moment's thought.

As Severus walked away, Tempest began to shiver more than she had previously. The tears ran down her cheeks freely, and she could not find the strength in her legs to stand. She passed a fist pass her eyes to try and dry them, in vain of course, and buried her head in her arms.

"Stop crying," she whispered to herself, breathing heavily. "Stop being childish."

She didn't count how much time had gone by. She only knew that it was far too long to be crying for. It was certainly long enough to think through the tears, and with shaking legs, Tempest heaved herself to her feet, gripping onto the nearby bedside table to support herself. After a moment or so, when strength finally returned to her, she walked slowly down the stairway towards the parlour.

Severus was still there. He seemed to have finally gathered all the letters and photographs and placed them back in the box. As she entered the room, he tapped the box with his wand and she supposed it was locked with more than simple charm now. The floorboard creaked lightly as she stepped into the room, causing Severus to turn his head sharply over his shoulder. He did not speak to her, and instead turned his head back, waiting for her instead to speak.

"She looks like me," Tempest said slowly, quietly. "A lot like me, really. It's strange, isn't it?"

"Your brother looks like your father."

"Is that why you hate him?" Severus paused, and Tempest continued. "My brother, that is. I know you hate him, but I'd never really guessed why. It's because he looks like our father, isn't it?"

"Your brother is an arrogant boy who never learnt the value of his mere existence," Severus snapped, still refusing to look at Tempest. "I am not shallow enough to hate a boy because of his image."

"But you were shallow enough to take me into your home simply because you owed my mother that much." Severus turned his head slightly, without looking at her, and grimaced.

"What else do you expect me to do in the name of her death other than at least make sure what she left behind do not die away?"

"I won't argue against you helping me, no one would. But why hide something like this? You know my mother- you _loved_ my mother- and you would just let me live under the same roof as you without even a hint." Severus momentarily thought of what to say, but thinking of nothing, stayed utterly still.

Tempest watched him for a moment, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes again with the back of her hand. She shook convulsively as a thought entered her mind.

"Is that why I'm here?" she whispered. "Because- because I look like her?"

"Do not think those ideas have come into my mind for even a second. The idea repulses me."

"How am I supposed to be sure of that?" Tempest moved away from the doorway, so slowly she barely knew herself she was moving. "Why else would you let me in your house, Severus? Narcissa would have gotten by with me in the house, I wasn't in any danger, was I? No one knew why you'd even let me near you let alone live under the same roof."

"And now you think you know why I allowed it?" he asked sarcastically. "You know nothing."

"I know that there is no other reason for me to be here and that there is no other reason you would hide pictures of my mother away from me!"

"What do you expect from me?" Severus asked spitefully, yet still with the seriousness that took Tempest aback. "I have shown you what you believe was entitled to you, though I fail to see how it would have been more useful to you at a younger age. You are only fifteen, Tempest, I cannot see how you would have made use of the knowledge that I knew her."

"How can I make use of the knowledge now?" she whispered, clutching at her throat as she felt a lump form in her throat. "It is nothing to make use of- I cannot make use of the knowledge that you _loved_ my mother- that you will most likely hold a grudge against me for being my father's daughter rather than your own. There's no use in any of it! The point is that I _should have known_."

With only a slight pause to stifle the wave of tears, Tempest abolished the last few feet between her and Severus in two steps and wrapped her arms firmly around his neck, pressing her lips against his. Immediately she felt his hands against her shoulders, pushing her away with incredible force. Severus stared at her, his eyes wide and his teeth gritted.

"What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?" he hissed, paying no attention now to the pitiful state she was in.

"If you wanted my mother," she sniffed, lifting her chin contemptuously, "then take her daughter. Think of it as the payment for your so-called good deeds as a fucking _spy_!"

Severus uttered a sound similar to a growl in the back of his throat as he took hold of Tempest's upper arm and dragged her towards the staircase. She struggled against him only for a moment before realising there was no use in it. She didn't bother asking where they were going- he wouldn't answer her. They reached the second floor and Severus dragged her down the hallway towards the mirror that stood at the end, at which point he grabbed her hair and forced her to look into the mirror.

"Take a long look at yourself," he hissed, seething with anger. "Ask yourself how _you_ are supposed to be in any manner the same as she was. _She_ was a wonderful woman who didn't need anything or want anything from anyone. And _you_, you are just a child. A silly child who can't take no for an answer." He let go of her hair and arm, letting her fall to the floor out of pure weakness.

Tempest sobbed uncontrollably, only just able to hear the sound of Severus's footsteps walking away without a single pause to look back at her.


	28. Chapter 28

_I know the truth now  
I know who you are  
And I don't love you anymore  
- Everybody's Fool, Evanescence_

Tempest did not leave her room for quite some time after that day. There were only a few weeks left until the school term began again, and she would be forced to return to the Malfoy Manor, but she refused to make use of her time while she still had it. Most of the day was spent laying on her bed, watching the ray of light that escaped through the gap in the drapes, or on the occasions that Wormtail was ordered to place a tray of food outside her door, she would move only to eat enough to keep her alive, at which point she would return to her bed.

A week passed when finally she left her room. She would not have left, but when briefly looking out of the window, she saw two people across from the house walking towards it. Narcissa and Bellatrix. Their hoods kept their faces mostly hidden, but there was no mistaking them. It was at this point that Tempest realised how bored she had become, and how childish it was of her to wait in her room for something to happen, so decided it best to finally leave her room, if only to speak to Bellatrix again.

When Tempest reached the bottom of the stairs, Narcissa and Bellatrix had already been led into the parlour and Pettigrew stood at the doorway, muttering some nonsense he would often spill in his own defence. She rolled her eyes, having heard the speech many times. Careful not to make a sound as she descended the stairs, Tempest listened cautiously as Narcissa spoke to Severus, also hearing the pacing of Bellatrix's shoes across the floor.

She watched for a moment before seeing Pettigrew stumble backwards and the door being closed in his face. He paused before scurrying down the hallway, muttering under his breath. Glancing towards the parlour door, Tempest decided that she little wished to be confronted by Severus at this point, and followed Pettigrew to the kitchen. She didn't at all wish to speak to him, but thought it better than remaining in her room or entering the parlour.

From the kitchen, only a faint muttering could be heard. It was almost soothing to hear the background noise, but she little concentrated on it. She was silent in the kitchen doorway, so Pettigrew did not hear nor see her. Bored with the silence, Tempest cleared her throat, causing Pettigrew to flinch slightly as he looked towards her.

"You're less jumpy nowadays," Tempest mused aloud as Pettigrew continued with his work. He didn't reply to her, so Tempest allowed herself to pause to think. It wasn't a very deep thought, instead simply an attempt to grasp for a conversation topic. She had locked herself away in her room for far too long and missed basic human company, however basic it may be.

"What are they talking about in there?" she asked after the thought.

"They've made it their business for me not to know," Pettigrew muttered, though there was little irritation in his tone. Perhaps he was less interested than she was.

"I can't see what they're doing here," Tempest continued, even though she was certain Pettigrew wasn't listening to her now. "There was a meeting only last week, they could have said something then."

"I really think it's none of your business."

"And I really think it should be my business."

Pettigrew didn't reply, and simply continued his work. She still didn't know whether to find it amusing that Severus had used him as the cleaner- she had never quite taken a liking to him, but was sure he could have been put to better use. Or, at least, less degrading work.

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked lightly. "I mean, why were you sent here?"

"The why doesn't matter, just that I am."

"You don't know either, do you?"

"It really doesn't matter why I'm here," he said, though his tone was doubtful. Tempest smiled triumphantly, but said nothing of it.

"I really don't see what they're doing here," Tempest said, echoing her earlier remark.

Pettigrew did not answer, so Tempest contentedly watched him for a while, though not entirely concentrating and instead allowing her eyes to rest in one place while her mind wandered elsewhere. She was not quite certain where, and instead allowed herself to simply not think. She was awakened from her daze by a soft clattering sound beside her, at which point her head turned slightly to see a plate of food that had been pushed towards her. Pettigrew walked away immediately back to his previous task, and Tempest blinked twice.

"Thank you," she murmured quickly before taking hold of the fork provided and eating- she could not help but lose her sense of dignity as she devoured the food.

"I simply following my duties," he replied, though his words were far more serious than the tone they came out in- it still surprised Tempest that he could say a single word seriously with such a frightened voice.

"You have no duty towards me, you were given to Severus, not me."

Tempest paused, and hearing no reply, smiled softly, placing her fork back on the plate.

"It's for my father, isn't it?" At this, Pettigrew flinched slightly, and looked at her curiously.

"What makes you say so?"

"I was told you were friends with him at school, ages ago. Sirius Black as well."

"He never did know when to keep his nose out of other people's business," though it was clear enough what he had said. Tempest shook her head.

"You're not holding a grudge because of his nosiness, so there's no use in pretending that's why you're irritated with him."

"If you're so smart, then why do I hold a grudge against him?" Tempest paused again, and then smiled.

"Because he didn't think the same way as you. It's the only reason no one here's very friendly with the Order, isn't it? It's not just the war- we'd dislike each other even without the war. It's the different values that count." Tempest paused again, then shook her head. "Although, if that were true, you wouldn't help me. My father had different values, it's why he died."

"But you don't," Pettigrew pointed out. "I feel no guilt in repaying your father's kindness to me by helping you; you're helping us."

"I'm not exactly helping that much." She sighed and looked down for a moment. It was only then that she saw the odd, skeletal way that her bones jutted; her wrists looked ready to snap and her skin had turned slightly blue from sensitivity to the cold. "I guess I can see now why you thought you had to help me," she whispered. Though she was quiet, she knew very well that Pettigrew had heard her, but he somewhat tactfully ignored her small comment.

They continued in this silence for quite some time. At least, it seemed quite a while, perhaps due to the silence itself. It wasn't until some time later that Tempest spoke again, and her earnest seemed strange in comparison to her previously calm state.

"Did my dad call you Wormtail?"

Pettigrew blinked twice before answering.

"Why do you ask?"

"It just seems a bit strange, really. I didn't think that many Death Eaters would be…immature enough, really, to give nicknames." He nodded slowly.

"Your father was the one to make it up, actually. Because of my animagus."

"I'd guessed as much," Tempest said, though it wasn't meant with any sarcasm. "Why would everyone else call you it then?"

"It's how I introduce myself," he admitted, and yet again Tempest was forced to ignore his pathetic tone.

"But it's not even close to your name," she noted. Pettigrew shifted his weight awkwardly, refusing to look up from the floor. Confused, Tempest leant forward slightly, her brow furrowed. "Peter," she said, it being the first time she had used his first name, "what's the matter?"

He still refused to reply, and as the silence grew, Tempest gritted her teeth and she felt her cheeks grow warmer.

"You're hiding something from me," she said simply, her voice wavering slightly.

"Of course I'm not," Pettigrew replied, though he seemed so doubtful it was almost sarcastic.

"I'm not asking anything stupid, or rude, am I? Because I don't get why you're acting like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you've got something to hide!" It took a moment to realise that her voice had risen considerably compared to the previous hushed whisper. She waited to compose herself before continuing. "Why introduce yourself by a nickname? Your becoming a rat isn't exactly _useful_, is it? So why call yourself Wormtail?"

"To remember," he answered finally, his voice quiet. "To remember your father."

"You hated Sirius because he was part of the Order, why not hate my father in the same way?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You can't possibly be ashamed, can you?" Pettigrew looked up, confused. "You needn't hide the reason why you would still call yourself Wormtail. It must be a noble enough reason, to pay respects to a man who betrayed you. At least, somewhat betrayed you, if not directly."

Pettigrew sighed before speaking again and clenched his hands.

"He didn't betray me at all," he said slowly and shakily. "_I_ betrayed _him_."

Tempest did not speak after this for some time. It was not out of shock. It was not out of any sort of anger. In fact, she was not quite sure what to think. She was not even sure of what Pettigrew had said.

"You betrayed him?" she asked slowly. "By which you mean?"

"I was the one who sold him- them- to the Dark Lord. I owe him at least my nickname, don't I?"

The next sound Pettigrew emitted was a high pitched squeal as he was thrown off his feet hit the wall on the other side of the room. He was thrown against another the moment he touched the floor.

"You _sold_ them?" Tempest shrieked, utterly forgetting any sense of calm that she had moments before. "You sold them, you bastard! Why couldn't you just leave them alone?"

"H-he would have killed me if I didn't," he stuttered in reply, but he was met with a crashing blow as one of the saucepans flew across the room and hit his head.

"Then why owe your name to someone whose skin you valued less than your own? You were a coward, Pettigrew! A coward!"

"What would you have done?" Pettigrew asked, still shaking. "Would you have rathered you were killed?"

"I would never sell a friend," she spat. "But looking at how _pathetic_ you are now, you should know it wasn't worth it!"

"H-he was such- such a good man," Pettigrew whimpered. "He wouldn't h-have wanted me to die!"

Tempest raised her hand towards Pettigrew, quickly searching in her mind for a curse appropriate enough to use, when another was placed upon her wrist, lowering her arm before she could summon a curse to mind. Severus lowered Tempest's arm, though his eyes were watching Pettigrew.

"Out," he said slowly, glaring. As quickly as possible, Pettigrew found his feet and ran to the door, disappearing down the hallway.

"You shouldn't have spoiled our fun," Tempest heard Bellatrix say, her voice light hearted. "She looked ready to finally torture that thing."

"I was," Tempest muttered, pulling her arm free from Severus and turning towards the doorway. Bellatrix smiled approvingly, and even Narcissa gave the smallest of smiles, though it was mostly likely out of tiredness than any actual happiness- Tempest could see her eyes were quite red. She mustn't have slept very much lately.

"If she is going to torture I would rather it wasn't done in my home," Severus said, looking around the room. "Though I must say that it would have been a cleaner job than what has happened."

"Perhaps we should leave, Trixie," Narcissa said quietly, placing a hand on Bellatrix's shoulder.

"Glad someone finally said it," she replied brightly, turning on her heel towards the door. "Absolutely hate it in this house, I really don't see why I had to come along in the first place."

"You followed me," Narcissa said, and with that the two of them were out of sight.

The silence that followed did not last for very long, but was heavy enough to seem awkward. Finally, Tempest sighed slightly and left the kitchen.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"My room." Though she was determined not to be fazed, Tempest could not help but stop as she replied.

"You've spent several days up there, I think you can wait another few minutes before returning." Nodding slightly, Tempest turned back towards the kitchen, deciding it best that an argument was not created. The two wordlessly began to clear away the pots that had been scattered across the floor. "What exactly happened?"

Tempest paused with a pot in her hand before continuing.

"He told me," she said quietly. "He told me about my parents- about selling them to Voldemort."

Severus flinched slightly at the mention of the name, but didn't say anything of it.

"I suppose you didn't react very well to the news." Tempest could not help but laugh slightly at the irony of the statement, and nodded in reply.

"Is that why you don't like him? Because he sold out my mother?"

"One of the reasons," he replied. "Although it isn't the only reason. As you said, he is rather pathetic. The only reason he ever joined the Death Eaters was out of fear."

"As opposed to your reasons." Tempest wondered for a moment, her own statement putting a question in her mind. "What were your reasons for joining?"

"I was extremely foolish," Severus admitted, though he did not look up from the floor. "As a Slytherin, there are some things that you cannot help."

"But you loved a Muggle-born."

"Who would never love me back." He shrugged passively, despite the fact that the statement was anything but passive. "I realised my mistakes and was only fortunate that Dumbledore was willing to forgive me."

"And Voldemort has never suspected?" Severus thought, and as he thought, Tempest swore that she saw a small smile appear on his lips.

"No," he said finally. "Not once."


	29. Chapter 29

_'Cause I'm too weak to stand on my own  
But all I need is you  
-Fall Into You, Evanescence_"

And why exactly couldn't she have sent Severus, who can actually_ teach_ Occlumency, rather than you?" Draco asked as Tempest brushed off the fresh ash from her robes after stepping out from the fireplace.

"Because Bellatrix is very foolish and proud," she replied gently, finally giving up with the idea of simply brushing the dust off her robes and discarding the clothing on the nearby chair. "She'd rather a child did Severus's work, as long as he didn't get the credit."

"She does know you probably won't teach and I definitely won't listen, right?"

Tempest laughed, shaking her head.

"Most likely she'll realise that soon enough, but her tongue was too far down Rodolphus's throat at the time for me to know." Draco shuddered after pausing, the image in his mind, and the two laughed it away companiably. They both knew that neither would neither teach nor learn, and so decided it best simply to wander the halls. Tempest had somewhat missed the mansion, if not the company she kept there, and looked around with the interest of a guest or newcomer.

"Is Narcissa doing any better?" Tempest asked lightly as their conversation began to thin.

"As well as you might expect her to be doing, all things considering really." He paused for a moment, stopping to look at a portrait of a distant relative who was sleeping soundly. "I think she's over-compensating, though. She won't stop worrying about me; it's getting just a little annoying"

"You're getting annoyed with something she's always been- slightly neurotic. She just wants to make sure you're alright through this all, we all do."

"Why should anyone worry? I've got a plan, after all."

"You're basing your certainty on having a plan?"

Draco smiled slightly, looking away from the portrait and directing his attention to Tempest.

"It's a very good plan. I'm not going to fail this, I'm really not."

Brow furrowed, Tempest looked away and continued down the hallway, stopping herself for speaking in fear of saying something she would eventually regret. Draco followed her eventually, still smiling with some sort of pride, though Tempest could not help but notice the fresh doubt in the way he looked. She ignored it, though, knowing the fuss it would cause to mention it even briefly.

Finally deciding on waiting in the parlour for the time to pass, Tempest made the decision to look about the room curiously while Draco sat in the chair itself. There was very little that had changed in the parlour, really. A few photographs had been moved and Narcissa had obviously grown bored with the colouring and so the previous deep pink had been changed to a musky blue. The change hadn't exactly done much to the room itself other than show Narcissa's pride in wealthy, but it did not look completely horrendous, and so Tempest did not comment on it.

It took only a few minutes before she came across a photograph that had been moved poignantly onto the mantelpiece. Tempest took hold of it, staring at the picture fondly.

"My mother had that put there not long after they took him to Azkaban," Draco said when he looked over to Tempest. "She found a few different things upstairs."

"Do you miss him?"

Draco wrinkled his nose and glared at her.

"Of course I do. He was my father."

"But you've not said anything about it lately." Draco shrugged.

"Neither have you, but you miss him."

Tempest nodded slightly, but couldn't bring herself to find an answer in words. Draco looked over her shoulder at the photograph during the silence, smiling slightly at it. It was a rather old one, taken perhaps a decade or so prior to that time. Lucius and Narcissa sat together in the garden, Narcissa laughing happily while Lucius merely allowed himself to smile, obviously disallowing the pleasure of the freedom to laugh. Tempest had most forgotten his serious nature, and could not have been happier to have been reminded of it.

"I know he's the reason the Dark Lord chose me," Draco said after a long period of silence spent looking at the photograph. "I'm not stupid, even I can see that."

"I'd begun to wonder," Tempest said in return, laughing falsely if only to attempt to divert away from the seriousness of the conversation.

"But if I do succeed, then maybe he'll realise that I'm good enough to be considered a Death Eater. It's all just some sort of punishment now, but if- when- I do actually kill Dumbledore, then he won't need to punish us anymore."

"It doesn't work like that and you know it," Tempest said, setting the picture down on the mantelpiece again and turning to face Draco. "He won't forgive Lucius for everything just because you succeed. Everyone slips up, and he'll punish anyone who does as he sees fit. It doesn't matter what you do for him."

"Do you have any idea how big a job this is?" Draco asked haughtily.

"Of course I do. And I know how much Voldemort- don't flinch- wants him dead. But that doesn't really mean anything, does it? Sure, you'll get praise for maybe a week or two, but nothing will change in the long run."

"You don't know that's true."

"Yes, I do, Draco, I've been there. Voldemort got bored of me and he'll get bored of you too."

"This is a little different from that," Draco said determinedly. He opened his mouth to speak, but upon realising he had nothing else to defend himself with, he sighed exasperatedly and turned to walk across the room.

"I'm not saying you're going to fail, Draco," said Tempest gently as Draco walked away. "I'm just saying...don't get your hopes up. Things won't automatically get better."

"The thing that I don't get is why you have to be so pessimistic. I thought you of all people wouldn't try to put me down."

"No one's trying to put you down."

"My mother is. Why would she go out asking for help if she thought I could do it?"

"She's worried, you know that."

"Since when did you try and defend her?"

"Since you started acting like an asshole." Despite himself, Draco snorted in laughter, shaking his head.

"And here's me thinking we'd made peace."

"We have, but I just wish you would with everyone else."

"Why should I if everyone else annoys me?"

"Ah, so you're lightly implying that I don't annoy you?"

"Not as much as you used to," he replied with a smile.

Tempest laughed despite herself, collapsing heavily onto the nearby chair. Draco took his place across from her, briefly looking towards the mantel piece for the picture, but sighing and looking away.

"Do you think any of it's going to end up fairly or us?" Tempest asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, just whether or not things will go right for us."

"Of course they will. We have the Dark Lord on our side."

"But they have Dumbledore."

"Just an old coot."

"We both know that's not true. I just wondered, that's all."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be wondering. For your own good."

"You don't have to worry." Tempest aped her temple pointedly. "Mind like a fortress here."

"For your sake, I hope so."

"Let me remind you that you have much more to be worrying about, so don't waste your hopes on me." Draco looked surprised for a moment before speaking again.

"I'll worry for myself later."

Tempest looked up with unreadable features, slightly dazed. She saw from the way he looked at her that he was sincere in what he said, and she could not help but find it baffling. He wasn't often sentimental, let alone towards her. She had assumed it in his nature, having Lucius for a father. There had never been any reason to doubt it as natural.

"We've lived together for about fifteen years, I think I can be a little bit worried about you without it becoming a big deal," Draco said as Tempest watched him, as if understanding her thoughts.

"Perish the thought."

They allowed silence to take over again for some time, more due to the embarrassment of their previous conversation than lack of topic. In fact, each could think of a thousand things that could be said, but could not find the need for them to be said. At last, when the hour became late, Draco stirred, as if remembering something.

"I didn't tell you, did I? My mother decided she would be holding a party as such."

"You've got to be joking," Tempest replied with no hint of humour in her tone. "That was always Lucius's job, no one expects her to be carrying it on alone."

"No one wants her to, I daresay. No one _wants_ to pity her, but when they must come to a gathering like this one, they have to."

"Do you think everyone really _must_ go?"

Draco shrugged dismissively.

"I assume so. Aunt Bellatrix seems to support the idea, and she would be willing to threaten those who don't."

"Good old Bellatrix," she murmured in reply.


	30. Chapter 30

_Oh someone tell me why I'm alive  
__I don't even care  
__And yet I have been spared  
__-Dead, Voltaire_

It was indeed true that Narcissa was holding an event before the school term started again, though despite its previous announcement, not a single person was left unsurprised. No one thought she would carry out the idea- she had been in a somewhat weak and unstable state ever since Lucius's arrest. Nevertheless, the hosted with the same air of charm and calm that she had displayed before and not a single person said anything against it. Yet most could still see the uncertainty in the manner she looked at Draco through the whole evening. She concentrated on little else, and her son constantly was forced to stop her from exerting herself. Tempest could not bring herself to speak to Narcissa on the matter, knowing full well there was nothing she could do to stop a mother's heartache.

"Cissy was always a little bit dim," Bellatrix said when she came to Tempest that evening. "She just doesn't understand how honoured she should be."

"You've never really gotten the idea of maternal instinct, have you?"

"Not once. I kept you for purely selfish reasons, didn't I?"

"I'm amazed you haven't reminded me more often," she replied with a smile, looking towards Draco who was exasperatedly talking to his mother. "We could all afford to be a little more worried, really."

"Worrying won't get us anywhere. He's perfectly good with his Occlumency lessons, and I daresay he's talented enough with his spells."

"He is, but that doesn't mean nothing could go wrong."

"Then we'll just assume nothing will go wrong. After all, _I'm_ the one who's been teaching him."

"Now, you certainly do wish to keep reminding us of that." Bellatrix smiled broadly, ruffling Tempest's hair playfully, though she was casually careful not to spill the drink in her other hand.

"You've let it grow out again," she noted thoughtfully.

"My ears were cold," Tempest replied with a small smile. Bellatrix laughed, patted Tempest on the back briefly, and then left with an interest in different conversation. Tempest shook her head in disbelief of Bellatrix's quick boredom, and decided to survey the room, if only to see who attended. It seemed Draco was right in thinking that most who were invited would attend. There were little to no people in the Dark Lord's circle that were not there, and any that weren't were most likely on some form of mission as such. Severus was included in this group, and Rodolphus as well, which certainly explained Bellatrix's free behaviour towards most of the men.

"I'm pretty sure she's never even heard of marital vows," said a voice behind her. Tempest turned to see Draco there, slightly flustered. He was staring at Bellatrix with the same curiosity as Tempest was.

"She definitely has. Bellatrix is the sort of person who would only do something because it broke a rule."

"Should I be worried that you can read into her that well?"

"You should be petrified."

Draco laughed lightly, but after a moment of laughter looked up and frowned, shaking his head. Tempest looked up to see Narcissa emerging from a room, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before putting on a false smile.

"Honestly, she has been following me all evening. I've only just gotten away."

"You should really try to be a little more sympathetic."

"You think I haven't tried? It's practically impossible."

"Then try harder."

Thankfully for both of them, it was at this point that Narcissa took her leave to another area of the house. They both smiled with an essence of relief before continuing a conversation that had very little to nothing to do with Narcissa at all. It was somewhat relaxing, to say the least, though they didn't fully realise it until later on the evening. The party itself after this moment went without any delays or interruptions, and therefore was considered a success, despite the obvious uncertainty of the hostess herself. It was undeniable, though, that most cared very little for this.

By the time the evening had passed and many had left, both Draco and Tempest found themselves in a state of mind where neither was quite sure of the time nor could find the effort to act accordingly to the time. They wandered the house for some time, discussing any topic that came to mind, and when conversation was lacking noted how they had not seen Narcissa in some time before carrying on with another subject. It occurred to them then that conversation seemed to have taken a strange turn over the past few years. Now that they both had duties and such within the Dark Lord's circle, they could think of anything and everything except their duties, and so did not once speak of them. It seemed more care free than when they were children.

It wasn't until the clocks in the house simultaneously chimed three o'clock in the morning that the two found Narcissa again in the house. They did not speak to her; in fact, they hid as well as they could around a corner so as not to be forced into conversation. At least, Draco hid, gripping Tempest's arm in attempt to stop her from being seen.

"You can't hide from her forever," Tempest hissed so as not to be heard by anyone but Draco.

"I don't need to. I need to hide from her for a few days before I go back to Hogwarts."

"And after that?"

"I'll hide some more." Tempest shoved Draco lightly enough for the act to be taken without offence, but hard enough to satisfy her anger.

"I might not like your mother very much but even I don't hide away like a child when I get annoyed."

"No, _you_ just run away to live with strange men."

"As if I'd do something like that if it were my own mother I was annoyed with. You didn't just lose a father, Draco, she lost a husband, of course she's going to be a bit silly about everything going on."

"Then feel lucky she isn't your mother."

"Feel lucky you have one!"

Draco moved as if to speak, but thought better and looked down to the floor, a slight pink tinge coming to his usually pale cheeks. Tempest stared at him for a few moments, finding slight satisfaction in his embarrassment, but soon enough decided she had had enough and sighed, taking hold of his hand.

"If you're so desperate to get away from her then," she muttered, guiding him down the hallway. Draco followed silently, unable to speak for fear of offending again.

They did not go very far, but it was far enough in their opinion. For the rest of the night they were left in peace, even if it was ever so slightly more awkward than it had been before. Tempest still held that small satisfaction, but could not help but feel guilt, which in turn increased the awkwardness. They did not find much else to talk about after that, and the night became considerably slower than it had been before.

* * *

"You're joking, right?" Tempest could not help but gape slightly. Severus did not look directly at her, but she could swear she saw a slightly smug smile at her aggravation, but it may simply have been a grimace at the situation.

"It is what Dumbledore wished. He specifically requested it."

"But…why?"

"To make amends. He seemed to think it was unfair he spent so much time with one Potter and not the other." Tempest wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I still don't get why I have to come with you this year."

"Because you were told to. And that should be reason enough."

"Since when was that ever reason enough?"

"You're going, Tempest." Severus looked up from _The Daily Prophet_ to see Tempest still standing with a fixed expression of loathing. "You should probably go and pack. We leave tomorrow."

"And what if I refuse?"

"Then I pack for you. I don't like this any more than you do, you know."

"So don't make me go! I don't get why he really cares anyway, he didn't sixteen years ago." Severus watched her thoughtfully for a moment before sighing and placing the newspaper gently on the table beside him.

"You're taking a very sceptical view on the whole situation, you know."

"Yes, I do know. And with good reason!"

"No, it isn't a good reason at all. You think that because you haven't always been a main priority that the world has abandoned you, and I must say it's rather childish."

"I don't care about not being first priority, I care about not being thought of until a month ago."

"A fact that could not have been helped. What would you have rathered? To have lived with a family that supported you or Muggles that would have tortured you for the very fact you were a witch? Dumbledore knew that you would be able to handle the whole affair better than your brother would have and left you with the Malfoys."

"You're changing the point entirely, Severus. The fact of the matter is I'm not going."

"The fact of the matter is that you are." Without a single glance, Severus rose from his seat and made his way to the door. He paused only briefly to say, without turning, "I'd go and pack your trunk now if I were you. I'll do it at the last minute if you don't- you're not getting out of this one."

Tempest scowled irritably, and sat heavily into the nearby chair. Still reluctant, she watched the clock with childish hope that time would stop for a while, even if it was only a little while. She knew very well she would have to pack her trunk at some point or another in the next few hours- it was already midday. There was little use in thinking of anyway to get out of going to Hogwarts, but Tempest could not help but try and find ways in her head.

Finally the time came when Tempest found the will power to go to her room and find her trunk, at which point she could not help but smile slightly. She could barely believe she's been so silly over the matter, no matter how little she cared for the idea. It was undeniable even to her, though, that there was nothing she could do to change the matter, nor much she could do to stop it, and so she stopped herself from arguing any longer.

It seemed quite strange to think that in a matter of hours, she would be at Hogwarts. Tempest hadn't taken much notice of it when she was there, and could not help but feel strangely excited to see it once more. Of course, it was still not a preferred way to spend her year, but she supposed that it would be a pleasant enough way to spend it. As long as it was only for the year.

_A/N- What a crappy ending. I beg for your forgiveness, I really do. I promise it'll get better!!! Please remember to review xxx_


	31. Chapter 31

_It's hopeless, don't it seem?  
__When even in my dreams you put me through hell  
__-See You In Hell, Voltaire_

So as to uphold the idea that she was still angry with Severus, Tempest refused to speak to him for the majority of the time before they Apparated. It wasn't very hard to do; she was still rather vexed, and not very much effort was required to emphasise such anger. She knew, though, to her great annoyance, that Severus was aware of the fact that she was not as angry as she seemed.

They Apparated reasonably far away from Hogwarts- at the outskirts of Hogsmeade- which would have been perhaps less pleasant on any other day, but it was an unusually warm day and Tempest did not personally enjoy the idea of being trapped inside. She could not help but smile inwardly as her small attempt at rebellion by wearing Muggle clothing, much to Severus's distaste, but it had turned out to be much cooler than with wizarding robes. The walk lasted long enough for her to finally grow tired of the heat, and she found that once they entered the castle it was colder than she had expected, making the prospect of remaining inside for the rest of the day somewhat more thinkable.

Severus did not speak as he directed them down a series of different hallways and staircases; despite the fact that she had previously been told of the staircases, Tempest could not help but yelp slightly when they began to move under her feet. She blushed violently from the embarrassment, and was quite grateful at the fact that Severus turned his head away for his silent laughter.

They at last made it to the familiar gargoyle that lay before Dumbledore's office, and it was here that Severus indicated they should leave their trunks for the time being. Tempest did not at all understand why they were to visit Dumbledore to begin with, but ignored this and decided to keep up her attempts at feigned sweetness. However, they realised soon enough that there was little to no point in having waited at the office door, as Dumbledore had left it empty. Severus seemed somewhat more confused than Tempest did, but said nothing to indicate it. Instead, they returned to the Grand Hall, carrying on down towards the dungeons.

"Dumbledore has said that it would be best you remained in the Slytherin Common Room while you are here."

"Why the Slytherin Common Room?" Severus paused lightly, looking at Tempest with a slight sympathy in his eye as he spoke. He knew, of course, that she was curious as to what would happen concerning Harry.

"He thinks that it would be best you didn't speak to your brother."

"Isn't that more my decision than his?"

"I don't suppose he would stop you from making contact. But I know more than anyone it is best to simply agree with Dumbledore rather than find fault in his ideas, however odd they may seem initially."

Tempest nodded slowly, though she could not help but frown slightly as they walked. The dungeons were considerably colder than she had expected, and immediately Tempest began to regret her choice of clothing. It was a wonder to her how Muggles ever survived in such clothes; the Muggle-like clothing that she or Draco more often wore were bought from wizarding shops, and were never as flimsy or thin. It was strange, to say the least.

"Is there no where more…private, so to say, for when people do come back here?"

"Not that has been mentioned. I should think he would rather you remained social to a certain degree."

"Did you explain to him the term misanthropy?"

"Just a foolish excuse in your case. You are what we call simply arrogant."

"And should we not be protecting students from arrogance?"

"Of course. But Dumbledore's first priority is to have you socialised."

Tempest wrinkled her nose in disgust at the very thought, and then shook her head.

"But he was a Gryffindor. I'm assuming he wants me as far away from Voldemort's ideals as possible, so why would he put me in a common room full of pure blood maniacs?"

Severus's lip twitched, but he forced himself not to smile and simple shook his head at the manner in which Tempest spoke.

"He will at least be happy with the distaste you hold for the ideals. And do you not think it would seem strange to the Dark Lord if you were placed with any other house? If you are asked about the subject, you simply reply that you thought it best you asked to remain with Draco, though the reasoning was to help him in any way you deemed necessary to kill Dumbledore."

"Will I still have to go the meetings, then?"

"Did you expect not to?" Not being able to think of an answer, Tempest shrugged and dropped her trunk heavily on the dungeon floor. Her eyes glanced briefly at her forearm which had been bandaged for the purposes of that day. The very last thing needed was for anyone to see the Dark Mark in the middle of Hogsmeade.

"Where are we know?" Tempest asked, looking around. There weren't any doors around that could be seen, and she was ever so slightly confused, to say the least. Severus smiled lightly before walking up to the wall, at which point he muttered the word _'parseltongue_'. A door-shaped part of the wall opened up for them, revealing the opening of the common room. Tempest arched her eyebrow immediately after looking in.

"It's so…"

"Over the top?"

"Green."

"I hadn't noticed."

Taking hold of her trunk, Tempest walked tentatively into the room with mild adoration. The greens and blacks were slightly too monotone for her liking, but she supposed she hadn't had a reason for any form of patriotism unlike the students. She looked around only briefly before turning around again to face Severus, who waited by the doorway.

"What next?"

"Why should I care? _I_ have work to do." And with that, Severus turned around and disappeared down the corridor. Tempest blinked twice before moving again, poking her head around the doorway to see the hallway empty.

"If I get lost it's your own damn fault," she shouted down the corridor before making her way back towards the Entrance Hall. It seemed a sensible enough place to start. The castle was larger than she had expected when she thought about it, almost as if it were bigger on the inside. That was of course total nonsense, as it was simply the illusions caused by multiple amounts of portraits and moving staircases that made the place somewhat larger.

The staircases seemed no friendlier when she first used them, but Tempest forced herself to persevere. It did not escape her notice that a few of the portraits were watching her, a few more running from frame to frame so as to follow her. To say the least, it was disturbing, but she ignored it for as long as possible. Her concentration was spent on not getting lost.

"I suppose Severus thought it best to leave you alone, then?"

Tempest turned on her heel quickly to face Dumbledore, who had spoken all of a sudden behind her. Her surprise was quite evident on her face, and she saw the small twinkle of amusement in the headmaster's eyes.

"He said he had work to do," she replied.

"Perhaps his timing was not the best." Tempest frowned slightly.

"I'm perfectly fine by myself, thank you very much."

She soon regretted the frankness of her speech when she saw the sad smile that she was given, and she could not help but look down at her feet with regret.

"Your mother was very independent," he noted, quite out of the blue, causing Tempest to look up. Dumbledore's smile became more genuine and thoughtful than before, and he approached her while speaking. "It's very surprising how alike you two are. I almost wouldn't be able to tell that James was your father." To Tempest's surprise, his hand then reached and placed itself on her shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture. Lucius had never acted that way…

"Why can't I meet Harry?" she asked all of a sudden, this being the first question that came to her mind. Dumbledore sighed and gestured for Tempest to follow him.

"It is more for his benefit than anyone else's, I must admit," he said after a short pause of silence. "It is best he does not know until he knows everything else necessary."

"I don't see how anything could be more necessary."

"Your brother has been through more than I wish to think about," Dumbledore noted gently. "I don't quite know how he manages it."

"And you think that this would be too much for him." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"You seem rather sensible, my dear. You'll know when it's right to tell him."

Tempest nodded slowly, and looked again towards the floor. She thought on the idea for a short while before clearing her throat.

"It wouldn't be rude to ask more, would it?"

"Only an inquisitive mind learns anything." She could not help but smile slightly at this comment.

"Why did you want me here this year?"

"As opposed to several years ago?"

"No. Just at all. There's nothing I can exactly do, is there?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment while he considered the question.

"This year is planned to be…eventful. It is best you are kept safe during it."

"Eventful in what way?" In reply, Dumbledore chuckled, stopping to admire the painting of a tiger that was content with catching painted butterflies.

"You do, of course, know of Draco's plans to kill me." Tempest opened her mouth to speak, but thought better and simply nodded. "Then I suppose you know what I mean by eventful."

"Will you expect me to turn against him?" Tempest asked quietly.

"I expect you to help in on a personal level. I of all people know that he is not ready for the task Voldemort has set for him.

"You said his name," she said with a small smile. She looked up at the headmaster with a slight more respectful look in her eye than she had before. "I don't know anyone who calls him Voldemort."

"Your brother does." Tempest's smile grew wider- almost embarrassingly so, she thought- to know that a similarity lay between her and the brother she never knew. It soon faltered, though, when she noticed the melancholy way Dumbledore looked forward, returning his focus to the painting.

"Aren't you scared?"

"Hmm?" His tone was light hearted, but Tempest refused to believe it.

"He's going to kill you."

"No, I don't believe so."

"He wants to."

"I know he does. The poor boy hasn't much of a choice in the matter, does he?"

"Aren't you even slightly scared?" At this, Dumbledore raised his arm and pulled down the sleeve of his robe, looking curiously at his disfigured, black hand. He turned it slightly to see it from a different angle, then sighed.

"Time will have its way with me soon enough." He smiled and dropped his arm again to his side. "I have lived a long time, my dear. Perhaps it will be nice to rest at last."

"And you would rather it was brought about by a young boy?"

The old man chuckled at the thought, shaking his head. He personally found it quite bemusing that people still doubted him in this world.

"I may be old, but I do have a trick or two up my sleeve. I shall be perfectly fine."

"Am I to know these tricks at all? Or do you plan to surprise me as you do everyone else?"

"All in good time." Tempest nodded, but was forced to bite her lip in order to not argue. She was quite certain at this point that it would be how she would spent most of her year.


	32. Chapter 32

_Sitting in the dark just feeling low  
I'm ruined to the heart - I'm on the road  
__To nowhere - to nowhere  
__-Liar, Vanilla Ninja_

There were only a few days before the students returned to Hogwarts, and Tempest was quite happy to spend them alone in the Slytherin Common Room. On the first evening a letter had been delivered to her by one of the many house elves she discovered were working within Hogwarts telling her they would supply her with food when she asked for it. She was inwardly thankful, and made a note to thank the headmaster when she had the chance. With little appetite, though, there was little other than simply laying by the fireside that Tempest actually wished to do.

The few days went by relatively quickly, and before long she was awoken from a boredom-induced daze by the opening of the doorway to reveal a rather confused Draco.

"So Snape wasn't lying, then," he said, dazed.

"When did he tell you?"

"About an hour ago, actually. At the gates. I just left the feast early to make sure." They paused for a moment, and Tempest could not help but notice that Draco didn't move. As if he were unsure whether or not he was dreaming. "What are you here for, anyway?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I really don't know. I just came back from the manor that last time I was there and Severus told me to pack my trunk. Dumbledore asked for me."

Draco nodded slowly, unable to summon another answer. At a loss, he took the empty seat beside Tempest and the two immediately gathered a topic from thin air so as to fill the silence. It was something the two now realised they didn't enjoy at all. About a half an hour later, the doorway to the common room opened again, and a horde of young students, first years, came into the room tentatively, led by an older girl, who seemed to Tempest to be the same age as she and Draco.

"Follow the corridor down to the first set of doors," she called back to the younger students. "Girls to the door on the left, boys on the right. Move it!"

Some of the students jumped a little in fear, and others strode by with large grins on their faces. The older shook her head, and then turned to stare fiercely at Draco.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You leave me alone to-" She stopped short and stared at Tempest, her expression suddenly changing to one of shock. "Who're you?"

Tempest looked to Draco, for once lost for words. He nodded and rose from his seat.

"I really think it none of your business, Pansy."

"Well, it is. Who is she?"

"No one of any importance," Tempest said quietly from where she sat, a slight embarrassment quietening her voice.

"I'll be the one to decide that."

Draco quite suddenly, and with an assertive firmness, reached out and took hold of Pansy's wrist to drag her to the other side of the common room. Tempest watched for a while as they spoke until a few moments later when Pansy placed her hands on her hips and stormed from the room. Draco turned to face Tempest, trying quite hard to not grin.

"What did you say to her?"

"I just said you were a distant relative on business."

"She didn't buy it, I'm guessing."

"Not at all." Tempest smiled grimly in return, and before she could speak she was halted by the sudden appearance of yet more students, the last of the house members returning from the feast. Not many looked towards the fireplace where Draco and Tempest waited. A few looked in their direction, but upon looking at Draco quickly turned their heads and scurried either to their rooms or the opposite side of the room. There were only a few who would look him directly in the eye, all from the same year as him.

"Got yourself a visitor there?"

Tempest looked up from her lap to see a boy staring at her, though he had directed his speech to Draco. He was somewhat taller than Draco, with much darker skin and a rather handsome visage. She blinked twice and, finding herself blushing, looked back towards her lap.

"Don't even think about it, Zabini."

"Just a little joke among friends," the boy replied with a shrug. "Nothing harmful."

With a quick wink, the boy left, and Tempest could not help but watch as he left.

"He didn't seem _that_ harmful, Draco."

"I suppose not," Draco said, shrugging. "But I would rather you didn't end up sleeping with half the Slytherins."

"You think so little of me."

"For obvious reasons." Draco looked about the room. "Where are you staying, exactly?"

Tempest tapped the seat she sat on pointedly.

"I've been staying here for the past few nights."

"Each to their own."

And so Draco left, and the common room was quite empty again. All other children had disappeared to their rooms, too tired or scared to stay. Tempest smiled approvingly, and lay her head down. She hadn't the patience to change or sort out any blankets; she simply fell asleep.

* * *

"Poke her."

"No way, idiot."

"Go on, poke her."

"She'll eat you if you do."

"She won't."

"Just poke her!"

Suddenly awoken by one of the daring first years who had grown impatient, Tempest's eyes opened quickly, causing the three students to jump backwards. Tempest paused, blinking a few times to clear her vision. The first years still stared for a short while, cowering slightly due to fear after having been discovered. Slowly, almost deliberately so, Tempest sat up, her eyes never leaving the three.

"Boo."

With a childish scream, the three ran from their places immediacy out of the common room. Tempest smiled inwardly, her eyes following them as they left. She looked about the room to see that it was relatively empty, with only a few first years scattered about. It was an entertaining sight- some were still attempting to get dressed, and others were looking at their timetables desperately. Most of them did not notice Tempest, which suited her well enough.

A slight boredom settled during this day. Previously, when no students had been in the castle- and no professors, for that matter- Tempest had been able to walk about the castle of her own free will. Now she was confined to the common room, Tempest could not help but feel sickeningly bored.

It wasn't until some time during the afternoon when anything at all happened. Tempest sat by the now un-lit fireside, staring into space while flicking the pages of a book, when the common room doors opened. She looked up in surprise, expecting to see a younger student or possibly Draco.

It was, instead, Blaise Zabini.

Tempest stood quickly, blushing violently yet again. She blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the way that he stared at her.

"If you're here for what I think you're here for, forget it," she said quickly, before another word could be said.

"And what do you think I'm here for?" Zabini replied nonchalantly. Unable to answer, Tempest gaped before her shoulders slumped in defeat. Zabini laughed, then shook his head.

"I won't do anything."

"You won't?" Tempest was annoyed with the amount of surprise in her tone, but pushed by it.

"Well, for now. Draco wanted me to make sure you weren't being bugged by more first years. So I just faked a nose bleed." Tempest wrinkled her nose at the idea.

"Have you no class?" Zabini laughed at the question.

"I suppose it does seem strangely…Weasley, of me, so to say."

Tempest nodded slowly, hoping he would not find out she hadn't a clue what was meant by the statement.

"Well, I'm not being bothered. So you can go."

Zabini rolled his eyes, though smiled slightly.

"I can see we have yet another anti-social bitch in the common room. Just what we need."


	33. Chapter 33

_Here in my web of dreams  
__My whispers turn to screams  
__-Rose Red, Emilie Autumn_

Wake up.

It was distant, but she could not deny she heard the words.

Wake up.

_I can't._

Wake up!

With a start, Tempest sat up, irritably aware of the damp sweat on her forehead.

"You were having a nightmare." She looked up to see Draco there, standing over the chair. It was still reasonably dark by the looks of it, the candles lit only dimly and the fire burning out. After her vision cleared slightly, Tempest noticed that Draco was fully dressed.

"What time is it?"

"Three in the morning."

"Then why're you dressed like that?" Draco looked down, then paused.

"I have some business to take care of."

"At three in the morning." Draco paused again, then pointedly changed the subject.

"What was the nightmare?"

Tempest placed her head in her hand, balancing her elbow on one of the pillows.

"Same as usual."

"The graveyard?"

"Yeah. But I still don't get why."

"Been in any graveyards lately?" Tempest rolled her eyes.

"I already told you about that. You didn't believe me. But I'm not even dreaming about what I saw."

"Maybe it's some sort of Divination thing?"

"You know as well as I do that that's just stupid. Anyway, even if it wasn't, I haven't got a prophetic bone in my body."

Draco shrugged, then straightened himself and brushed off his robes. He moved to speak again, but upon deciding there was nothing to say, he simply nodded and walked from the room briskly. Tempest watched him for a moment, then sat back, pondering. She had little wish to go back to sleep- if she wished it, she could sleep during the day. She had little to nothing else to do. To say the least, she was ever so slightly irritated by this fact. When forced to spend her year at Hogwarts, Tempest had expected there to be a reason behind it. However, not a word had been said to her, and she didn't suspect there to be any reason at all by this point.

It was at this point that Tempest promised herself to make her way to Dumbledore's office somehow that following day. She would, of course, wait until the other students were unable to find her; it was obvious she was to be seen by no one, really.

* * *

"And where do you think you're going?"

Tempest spun around quickly, but relaxed her shoulders when she saw it was only Severus speaking.

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore."

"I'll be the judge of that." Tempest pulled a face, irritated, but stayed quiet. "He isn't here right now. Whatever you need to say can be directed to me."

"And what if I don't want to talk to you?"

"I'd rather not listen myself."

She paused, wrinkling her nose. On any other day she would not have been bothered, but being bored and irritable made the situation somewhat more annoying.

"I want to know what I'm going to do for the next year."

Severus looked at her for a moment, pondering the idea. He then sighed, as if a decision had been made.

"You can begin by attending the next meeting. Tuesday evening."

"You still attend them?"

"We must more than ever now."

Tempest nodded, but inwardly frowned. She hadn't given much thought to those meetings, they hadn't been her priority. Then again, what else was she to expect? Though it was true that she hadn't much taste for the more…pure blooded side of wizardry, it did not mean that she was exempt from attending the meetings while at Hogwarts. If they were to hear of the betrayal, she would not last much longer. Perhaps it was best.

"Fine then."

Severus nodded, and deciding it useless to carry on the conversation, made his way back down the hallway to a room that Tempest was sure she didn't care about, and so did not bother to question.

_A/N- Yes, I know, it's been FOREVER. But I've just been busy with stupid schoolwork. DAMN GCSEs!!! I should be updating more frequently now, fingers crossed. This chapter would have been longer but I really couldn't be bothered. Next one'll be longer, promise._


	34. Chapter 34

_There's only us  
__There's only this  
__Forget regret  
__Or life is yours to miss  
__-RENT soundtrack_

Tuesday evening. Tempest waited in the dungeon's hallway, wrapping her cloak around her tightly. It was surprisingly cold. Then again, it was closer towards winter than when she had first arrived in Hogwarts, so she was confused as to why she was shocked at the change in temperature. Besides, the dungeons had never been that warm to begin with.

At last, Severus emerged from his office, looking somewhat more irate than usual. It did not seem intelligent to immediately question this, and so Tempest didn't ask questions. To her surprise, though, Severus had no inclination to keep his anger a secret, nor the reasoning behind it.

"There seems to have been a change of plans," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then where are we going?" It seemed almost childlike to ask, but if there was a change in plans she could not fathom where else they would be walking to.

"It seems that we have been organised to attend another meeting."

"What meeting?"

"With the Order."

Tempest stopped immediately, frozen to the spot. Severus realised this a few steps later and turned with an exasperated expression.

"Don't be so childish."

"Why should I be there? I'm not a member of the Order."

"Dumbledore seems to think you are as good as- don't ask me why, I don't know. He wishes for you to be there."

Tempest nodded, but still found herself unable to move. Severus only paused for a moment or two before becoming irritable again. He sighed heavily.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter?" Tempest asked quietly.

"Not at all." Severus moved forward and took hold of Tempest's elbow, dragging her down the rest of the corridor before she was able to walk of her own accord again. Her eyes were still wide from the surprise, and cast down so as not to draw attention to the fact. She allowed herself to be led to Hogsmeade without any speech, though very few thoughts occupied her head.

The journey seemed longer than the others that Tempest had taken to and from Hogsmeade, but she put this down to her state more than anything else. They Apparated the moment they had stepped outside the boundaries of Hogwarts; it seemed that no time was to be wasted. It was quite late in the evening, and the sun had begun to set earlier in the day, so there was little to no chance of them being seen when they arrived. There was no one out that night, to their fortune, although neither noticed it.

They had not Apparated very far from the building where the Order held its meetings, though Tempest was of course unaware of this until they arrived. It was a somewhat more shabby exterior compared to the last building, though Tempest was thoroughly sure that it was far more appealing on the inside.

Only a moment was spent waiting for someone to open the door when they arrived. She was a relatively young woman, though slightly withdrawn in her looks. She looked at Severus blankly for a moment before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial, which she then handed to him. He stared at the vial before sighing and drinking its contents, shuddering slightly as he did.

"Must we go through this every time?"

"Dumbledore's orders, you never know who's trying to get in." The woman then looked towards Tempest, surprised. "And who is this?"

"I was ordered to bring her."

"By who?" At this question Severus seemed rather irritated, and ever so slightly disgusted.

"Dumbledore, of course."

"You can never be to careful." The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out another vial, then held it out towards Tempest. "Just to make sure."

Tempest took the vial and paused momentarily before drinking. She understood immediately why Severus had shuddered in such a way; it was horrible. It did her no good to think of it much longer, though, and so she ignored the taste as well as she could. When she looked up again, she noticed the woman biting her lip slightly.

"You're not who I think you are, right?"

Tempest waited before looking up at Severus, who did not reply or give any sign of encouragement. She thought for a moment before replying.

"Who do you think I am?"

The woman moved to speak, but stopped herself short and shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. Come in, quickly, both of you."

It was not a surprise to see that the building was indeed much more appeasing inside than it was outside. The hallway, small as it was, was comforting in the way that it was lit and the minimal amount of portraits or pictures to distract. Being a short hallway, it did not take long before they were led into a room at the end of it. The woman paused tentatively with her hand on the door handle before opening it. Though there was no offence meant by the shyness, Tempest could not help but wonder why it was being displayed. She knew very well that no one was expecting her, but saw no reason why the matter should not be handled with more forwardness.

Knowing what she knew, it was no surprise to Tempest when she received the looks she did upon entering the room. It was all she could do not to look back towards the ground, but she was forced by her own pride to look up, if only to show herself that there was no reason to be embarrassed when walking into a room. After all, they were only so shocked to see that she was herself, and what shame was there in being who she was born as?

The room was silent, as no one dared to speak for quite some time. It was only for a moment or so, but nonetheless was obviously uncomfortable for all those involved. The silence was broken when one woman stood- Tempest recognised her as the woman who had been at the door of Grimmuald Place a year or so prior- and, with an exaggerated cheerfulness, walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Nice to see you finally here with us, dear," she said brightly, and Tempest could hear a sincerity in those words. "I'll just quickly pop you into the other room until the meeting's over, shall I?"

"Molly," Severus said sharply, causing the woman to jump slightly. "Dumbledore specifically requested she sit in on the meeting." The woman- Molly- paused for a moment, still recovering from the shock, before frowning.

"She's only a child! What on earth does that man think he's doing."

"We are in no position to complain, dear," said one of the men at the table- supposedly her husband, Tempest assumed, judging by the way he spoke to her. "If Dumbledore has requested it-"

"She's far too young!"

"And has dealt in matters far more serious," Severus stated, moving forward and pushing Tempest lightly by the shoulder to indicate she was to sit down. "Now, I personally see no other reason for interruption."

Nobody seemed to dare to respond to this statement, and so said nothing as Severus and Tempest took their seat, Molly wavering before she sat back down. After a slight pause, one of the men who Tempest remembered from Lucius's previous descriptions as Kingsley Shacklebot cleared hit throat, and began to speak.

"We were just discussing, before you came in, ironically, recruitments." He paused, as if waiting for someone to speak, but when silence reigned again he continued. "As everyone is aware, there is no…official age requirement to the Order. Tonks has mentioned the idea of allowing a minority of students join us."

"Of course, only seventh year students," said another of the men- the one Tempest had noted as this Molly's husband , Arthur Weasley who Lucius had spoken of many times, always in a somewhat derogative tone. "And only those who Dumbledore or perhaps Minerva judged as prepared."

"I do not think either would allow such an idea," Severus said blatantly, his eyes almost darkening from the thought. "I am mostly here to warn you of a raid planned by the Death Eaters in the following week, and I am sure none of you would allow any student, seventh year or not, to take part in it. Their techniques are becoming somewhat more torturous."

"Do you know what day in the next week?" Shacklebot asked quietly.

"I have not as of yet been entrusted with that information- I daresay for the purpose of this meeting. All that I am sure of is that the Dark Lord wishes to collect people for information."

"He has you."

"But he knows that there is only so much information I can give to him."

"Then can you at least tell us where it will be?"

"Again, I have not been told."

"And what side will _she_ be fighting on?" Tempest looked up from her lap towards the man sitting across the table from her. She wasn't sure who he was- he certainly did not work at the Ministry, and she could not place him as a relative to any other members of the Order at the table.

"What do you mean by that, Remus?" Arthur asked, bemused.

"Am I the only one to have noticed?" He paused pointedly, then shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She is wearing a bandage on her arm. And I am positive it is not to cover a wound."

"You're joking, aren't you?" Everyone looked towards Arthur who was the only person to speak out against the intended accusation. "The girl's only just walked through the door, you can't be throwing around comments like that."

"It's true though, isn't it?" At this, everyone excluding Severus looked towards Tempest, who stared about somewhat bemused. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot in such a manner, and stuttered slightly.

"Well, ye-yes, actually, it is."

For what seemed an uncountable time in that day, the room went silent.

Severus cleared his throat, holding his head up and staring at the others sitting at the table.

"Dumbledore trusts Tempest and I see no reason why the matter is of any importance."

"I little see how he can trust a- a Death Eater after such a short while."

"He's never been wrong before," Molly intervened, her cheeks flushed slightly.

"And there have never been Death Eaters so young."

At last, Tempest could barely stand the accusation much longer, and she stood quickly, trembling with anger.

"And you think I had much of a choice in the matter?"

Remus too had far gone his limits and stood too, glaring at the girl. No one was quite sure where this anger had come from, or why he so passionately displayed it now.

"Someone corrupted so young does not change their mind on a whim, I don't see how you should be any different."

"Who are you to call it a whim? I never asked for this Mark, it was given without my permission."

" And there has been little evidence that you believe in our cause!"

"And nothing to say that I don't!"

Without thinking, Tempest turned and ran from the room back towards the front door. No one called after her. It would not have worked anyway, Tempest thought to herself. She refused to sit in a room where she would be accused in such a manner. Tempest realised the moment she stepped outside, though, that she had no transport home unless she waited for Severus, and so grudgingly sat down on the step outside the front door.

It was quite some time before Severus came to the door. He did not seem surprised to see her waiting at the door, and said nothing for a moment or two. Instead, he stood at the doorway, as if to allow Tempest a moment of silence herself. He finally walked past her and waited in front of her, gesturing to the side to indicate that they were to leave.

"He isn't the only one who thought like that, is he?" Tempest asked quietly.

"Most likely not. Others are just too polite to say anything."

"But…I haven't done anything. They didn't even know I existed until Merlin knows how long ago."

"They found out today." Tempest looked up, but could barely see Severus through the newly formed tears in her eyes. "They think worse of me."

"It seems to not bother you."

"I am sensible. I do not need the approval of Order members, I merely need to attend the meetings."

Tempest wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand and nodded.

"I have to come to more of these, don't I?"

"According to Dumbledore."

"Must I do everything he asks of me?"

"Yes." Tempest snorted at the bluntness of the answer and laughed slightly. She nodded and stood.

"You didn't tell me about this raid, you know."

"I know," Severus replied quietly, his features more grave than before.

"It's going to be worse than before, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And we're all going to have to fight, aren't we?"

"Yes."

Tempest nodded again, but said another word until they had arrived back at Hogwarts.


	35. Chapter 35

_Once upon a lifetime  
The spirits of the dark  
Came to kill the beauty  
Of our world  
__-Blue Tattoo, Vanilla Ninja_

It wasn't the first time that Tempest had been forced to attend one of the Death Eater's raids on a village. It was the first time, however, that the raid was a manner of bait rather than general attack. There was no particular difference, though not a single person felt the same as they had before. Bellatrix seemed the most excitable of all that night; her eyes were constantly wide and sparkling with delight. Very few showed an excitement even close to hers, though none seemed bored.

The attack was on a village in southern England, far away enough from the headquarters in the coast of Scotland to not arouse suspicion. It was night, of course. When they least expected it. Tempest didn't personally see the reason why. They were only Muggles, it wouldn't matter if they were prepared or not.

A few had been killed by the time the Order arrived. It was not so much the fault of the Order who hadn't at all arrived late, but rather the excitement of some of the Death Eaters and their blood lust. Though it pained her to admit it, Tempest had seen Bellatrix to be one of the first to murder. She knew very well, of course, that she would have been. Tempest had herself not dared to attack anyone as of yet, in this battle or any other for that matter. For the most part she only ever cast shielding charms.

Tempest soon lost track of the majority of the other Death Eaters, though it was the better alternative. The danger was in the centre of the crowd- no one often dared to leave it. The Order knew they could not leave as the Death Eaters would fight in the centre in fear that the Dark Lord would punish them. If ever asked, Tempest had always planned to say that a member of the Order had strayed, become a coward. She had not yet needed to use this lie, but was always prepared nonetheless.

When she stayed distant like this, very few curses or spells would fly her way. It was why she was only ever required to use shielding charms. Tonight was no different. The battle was entirely central, and no one had noticed her escape. No one attempted to harm her in any way- if they spotted the movement in the distance they either regarded it as an animal or were far too engulfed by their current position that they were unable to investigate. It was a great advantage, really.

Of course, when plans are made, more often than not they will go astray.

Due to the time of night, it was pitch black apart from the ever-occurring flashes of lights from wands and the fires that had been started down in the village. It was enough to be able to see, but not enough to see clearly. As Tempest ran for cover behind a nearby tree, she was forced to drop to the ground and cast a shielding charm as a wayward _Crucio_ was fired. It was becoming far too dangerous to move now. Curses were flying everywhere and there was no use in moving if she did not wish any harm to come to her.

Had it not been for the irresistible safety of the tree, she would have remained.

Before she had the chance to even attempt to control herself, Tempest raised herself to her feet, concentrating as fully as she could on the shielding charm that stood between her and death. With an energy that one finds only a few times in a lifetime, she ran. The charm kept strong for some time, and would have kept working for the whole distance had it not been for an awkwardly set stick.

Tempest tumbled to the ground and her concentration was lost for a split second, a second in which the shielding charm was broken. A second was how long it took for a spell it be cast from somewhere in the distance- it was still not sure whether it was a member of the Order or the Death Eaters had cast the spell. It did not exactly matter, Tempest thought. Either way, she had been hit.

She didn't realise it at first. The intensity of pain was too sudden and intense to be noticed, but slowly it began to become noticeable. Tempest stopped short and fell again to the floor after having made it a few more metres closer to the tree. She clutched her leg, feeling the blood pouring from the wound that had been inflicted. The burning sensation was suddenly recognised, and she could not stop herself from letting out a scream. The sound of the battle taking place was too loud for her to even hear her own screams of agony, so there seemed little hope for anyone else to hear them. Of course, no one did. It would have been impossible to hear such a sound among all the screams of villagers.

It was through pure luck that one of the Death Eaters saw the sudden movement. Bellatrix laughed to herself, delighting in the idea of a victim waiting by themselves. She looked around only briefly before running through the crowds, cackling to herself. The thrill of a raid always brought out this side of her.

As she came closer towards the now writhing body of her victim, Bellatrix could hear the screaming. At least, she could separate this person's screams from the rest. It would have created a higher bloodlust if she had not recognised the screams, and immediately Bellatrix slowed down. She saw that the figure was wearing the same mask and robes as she was, and her eyes widened upon realising it was Tempest who lay there.

"What are you doing?" she hissed as she knelt by Tempest's side, staring at the blood coming from the wound in her leg.

"I- there was someone- someone ran- I-" She could not finish the sentence before letting out another agonising scream. There was no use in trying to get any more information from her at the moment in time, Bellatrix thought to herself, and looked around quickly. No one could be seen nearby, no one could help. She looked back at the wound and winced slightly at the sight. It was most likely from the look of it a curse from a Death Eater- no member of the Order would sink to such a level of mutilation- but Bellatrix could not think of anything that would in any way remedy it.

"Wait there," she muttered before turning back towards the battle. There was only one person who she could think of who would be able to- or at least, be willing to- help in the situation. Bellatrix ran full-speed towards the raging battle below, her eyes scanning those fighting as she went. It did not escape her notice as she approached Severus that his curse was aimed a foot above a member of the Order's head. It wasn't the first time she had seen him do it.

She did not flinch as Severus turned his wand on her when she grabbed his arm, but instead remained determined, dragging him across the fields. She could hear his complaints, but knew very well that what little trust he held in her was being used at this moment in time; he would have far more than enough physical strength to be rid of her if he wished.

Upon reaching Tempest again, the two froze slightly. It was only for a moment- too brief to even really be thought of as a significant period of time- but they had to stop in their tracks nonetheless. The look of sheer panic on Tempest's face was enough to have caused anyone to stop.

"Get her out of here," Bellatrix hissed, shoving as hard as she could at Severus's shoulder. He immediately moved forward, gathering his senses once more. Severus raised his wand and murmured _Ferula_ under his breath, wrapping the wound in bandages. Just to satisfy Tempest's worries for a few moments longer.

There was no use in attempting to help in these surroundings- Severus knew he would have to return to the castle. He pulled Tempest's arm around his neck and heaved her into his arms. He wasted no more time before he Apparated the two to Hogsmeade.

"Keep quiet," he whispered harshly the moment they arrived. "If anyone hears you-"

Severus cut himself off, feeling as if there was nothing more to say. Tempest weakly nodded before biting her lip to halt her screams.

It seemed only a matter of minutes to Severus before they made it to the dungeons of Hogwarts. To Tempest, it seemed hours. She was only vaguely aware of being set down again on the now clear desk. A wince escaped her lips as she was let go of, and she heard Severus say something briefly about casting a silencing charm on the door as he moved to the other side of the room. The moment she released her lip- she realised now that she had been biting it to a point where she had drawn blood- and let out a low moan, shifting slightly under the new wave of pain. She did not dare to look down at her leg, scared she would pass out if she looked.

"Severus," she whispered, choking on the effort to summon words from her cries. "Severus, how- how bad is it?"

"It's curable," he replied, though he sounded doubtful. The moment he stopped speaking, another stinging sensation was added to the pain. Dittany. Tempest screamed once more, writhing.

"I'm dying," she moaned lowly, her hands now gripping onto the edges of the desk to distract her.

"You're not dying." A burning sensation to add to the stinging.

"You don't know that," she continued, gripping the desk more tightly than before. "Don't lie to me!"

Severus did not reply, but brought out his wand. The wound could not be infected, but it had been inflicted with an unknown curse. The only hope they had was for him to attempt any spell he could think of. He muttered words under his breath, anything that came into his head. Each one induced another scream or moan from the girl still lying on the desk, writhing in agony.

"I'm going to die," she whimpered, now past the initial shock of the intensity of pain and left enough breathe to cry freely. She did not attempt to wipe away the tears, far past the virtue of humility.

Again, Severus did not reply. There was no use in lying. He himself didn't know if she would make it past the night. He moved away from the desk, but was halted when Tempest clung onto his sleeve.

"Tell me- me more about my mother. Tell me, please. Before I die- I want to- wanna know more about her, please." Unsure at this moment what to say, Severus snatched back his sleeve and hovered slightly.

"What do you expect me to say?" he asked lowly, his mind blank.

"You knew- her better than I did, you should have- have plenty of things to say- of course you do! Tell me anything, please!"

He nodded shakily, quite scared himself by this point. What could he say? A thousand things if he wanted to. If he had the power to.

"You wouldn't want to hear about your father?"

"You have- nothing pleasant to say."

And with that, and a final shudder of pain, Tempest's world went black.


	36. Chapter 36

_What will they do with us,  
When they are through with us?  
Sandy, what are we sailing for?  
__-Sandy Fishnets, Evelyn Evelyn_

There were no windows in the room, so it was no surprise that Tempest did not awake until late the next day- evening, really. She was aware of the fact that she was no longer in the dungeon where she had been placed previously, but instead found herself in a slightly darker room, if not only because of the wallpaper which was a magnificently deep colour, so dark she was unsure whether it was black or a dark green. When her eyes had been open long enough to take in more intricate detail, Tempest noted the fact that she was in a room similar to the Slytherin Common Room, but designed in a way similar to... She shook her head. It was almost like being back at Spinner's End. Tempest looked to her right to see a door ajar at the end of the room, and through it she could see a small amount of the room she had been taken to last night.

Summoning the little strength one usually has after a particularly long sleep, Tempest walked slowly across the room until she reached the point where she could look around the door as quietly as possible. She had not realised at this point that she no longer felt any pain in her leg nor anywhere else in fact. Upon realising this, she crouched down and lifted the hem of her cloak. Not a single mark. Happy enough, she stood up again and looked out the door. There were few candles lit, perhaps only three or four at the most around the walls and two at the desk where a silhouetted figure sat, hunched over the desk with a quill in his hand.

Tempest smiled slightly. She at least had enough memory of last night to realise he had saved her life.

"Severus," she called, a cheerfulness in her tone that surprised her, and seemed to almost petrify Severus, who at this moment straightened his back and looked around with a recognisable shock. She left the room she stood in quickly, almost skipping down through the classroom. "I must thank you, my friend!"

She stopped short of the desk, smiling broadly down at Severus who still remained seated. He shrugged in return somewhat carelessly.

"It was my duty and nothing more." Tempest laughed sharply, a slightly more erratic sound that she intended it to be.

"Don't be so silly, your duty's nothing to do with your actions. You were scared as well last night."

"For reasons I daren't say you'd understand," Severus muttered under his breath.

"Try me."

She was quite blatantly ignored after she spoke, and Tempest could not help but become quickly impatient. She moved around the desk and stood in front of it, placing her hands on the surface to catch Severus's attention.

"Why wouldn't I understand?"

"You and I both know you would understand, I simply don't see the point in speaking any more of last night."

"You saved my life," Tempest said quietly, her previous ecstatic behaviour calmed by the serious realisation. "I can't just stop thinking about it."

"Try."

Tempest sighed exasperatedly and turned from the desk.

"_Were_ you scared at all last night?"

"Yes."

"About me dying?"

"Yes."

"Then what's your problem?"

There was a pause in which both thought, but only one came to a conclusion of any profit to themselves. Tempest bit her lip lightly and muttered a low 'Oh' before saying anything else.

"You didn't do it for me," she whispered. "You did it for her, didn't you?"

"I don't see why you seem surprised," Severus replied calmly, barely even looking up from his parchment. "I hold no loyalty to you."

"You don't have to be loyal to someone to help them."

"I do," he murmured.

"You won't even pretend, will you?" Tempest asked, her indignant tone rising. "You won't pretend that for once, _she_ had nothing to do with a decision you've made."

"_She_ was your mother, I remind you."

"Can't you just admit," she continued, ignoring Severus's comment, "that you were scared of me dying _not_ just because I'm her daughter? Weren't you scared in the slightest that Tempest would have died and not Lily Potter's daughter?"

"Most people would just be thankful and be done with it," Severus said bitterly, still refusing to look up from his parchment.

Tempest swayed slightly. There was nothing she could say. Nothing that would make the situation any better, or even worse really. So she said nothing. She could only stare for a moment, utterly breathless. Nothing to do, nothing to say. Only to stare onwards at the man she had thought of as her friend.

In a fit of anger that suddenly surged through her body, Tempest shouted _Flippendo_, throwing the spell at whatever was in her path at that moment, and ran towards the door without once looking back to see the damage which had been caused. She could not hear anything that happened behind her, and was glad of it. If she could hear nothing, then there was no reason to turn back.

The dungeons were empty. Utterly empty. This was only noticed later on, but Tempest at that moment in time had nothing else to think of but… oh, but everything. She ran until she arrived at the door of the Slytherin Common Room, at which point she opened her mouth to speak the password, until realising she hadn't a clue what it was. She so very rarely needed to leave the Common Room that she didn't think she required to learn it.

It was fortunate enough that only moments later, as Tempest paced the floor several time in angst, the doorway opened and a petrified looking second year stopped short when he saw her. Tempest looked at the child for a moment before pushing her way past and marching into the dormitory. She took no notice of anyone who may have been there are that time, but was vaguely aware of someone saying her name before she disappeared up the stairs towards the bathrooms. Her bottom lip was held tightly by her upper teeth, and the tears were beginning to slowly appear, stinging her eyes mercilessly. She knew very well that it was only a matter of time before she broke down.

Slamming the door behind her, Tempest looked briefly across the bathroom. There was no one in there, and therefore plenty of places she could have locked herself away in. Yet for some reason or another, she could not bring herself to move, let alone hide. What was the use anyway? Someone would have found her.

And someone did.

Tempest started to pace the floor, and only stopped when she spotted herself in the mirror. Vanity was not one of her stronger points, but Tempest could not help but wince when she saw her reflection. The sleepless nights had taken their toll on her and the fresh tears certainly did not help. She sank to floor and wrapped her arms around her knees- something that came far too easily nowadays, causing her at that moment to shudder at the thought of her bony limbs.

"You are not vain," she muttered to herself, "and have other things of concern other than your looks."

The distraction of her other woes suited her no better, though, and within moments the tears poured freely and Tempest clung to her knees, the only hold she had to anything. She did not notice the footsteps outside the door and the soft sound the door made as it was opened. In fact, she wasn't aware of anything until the footsteps became heavier once inside the room and she heard a voice.

"What happened?"

Tempest looked up to see Pansy standing there, slightly wary. She kneaded her eyes with the palm of her hand to rid herself of the tears, but she was far too deep into the process of crying that they would not stop when wiped away. Pansy stood there for a while, swaying, simply looking at Tempest from afar. Her expression was unseen at the time; for all Tempest knew, Pansy could have looked at her with disdain or pure loathing. It was not until Pansy moved to her side, placing one hand gently on her shoulder that Tempest looked up, the tears thinning.

"Did someone die?" she asked softly. "Last night?"

"I don't think so," Tempest replied, slightly taken aback by the question.

"What happened then?"

She shrugged, unable to summon something to say. Pansy wouldn't understand. She barely thought anyone in the school might understand. They had friends. Friends who were not twice their age, at the very least. Tempest knew very well that it was a very innocent, or mad, person who would understand the situation without being interrupted by thoughts of a generally unpleasant kind.

"Then don't be so silly," Pansy said, though the soft tone with which it was said set Tempest at ease. She managed a faint smile that set her at ease before wiping away the leftover tears that stained her cheeks. To her surprise, they had stopped flowing at long last. The smile grew slightly more and Pansy joined in, almost grinning.

"I think Draco wanted me to bring you back down," she murmured after a moment's silence, and Tempest nodded. She wouldn't put it past him to ask it. Pansy brought herself to her feet and took hold of Tempest's elbow, dragging her up alongside her. Tempest could barely believe it came so easily. Only moments ago she felt as if she wouldn't be able to speak again, let alone stand.

Both Draco and Blaise were in the Common Room, waiting for the two girls, and both were tactful enough to not make a fuss of their entrance. Tempest stopped at the doorway, a fact that caused Pansy to frown slightly, though she did not complain, and instead she watched the others resume a conversation they must have had before she had entered the Common Room in the first place. She could not help but notice, though, that Blaise took very little- in fact, no- interest in the conversation, and was instead distracted.

_Don't come over here._ Tempest looked away quickly, blushing. _Don't you dare come over here, if you so much as even look at me, I'll-_

"Excuse me," she heard him mutter, and looked up to see Blaise leaving the group and walking towards her. Tempest could feel her cheeks heating and her eyes narrowing at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped, leaving him little chance to say anything.

"I wanted to know what was wrong." It was true, she could tell. There was genuine concern there. All the more to be suspicious about.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I just wanted to-"

"I'm _fine_." Blaise paused a moment before whistling lowly, relieved, and smiling.

"Good, good, I just thought…nothing."

"You thought what?"

It only took a moment for the smile to disappear, and for that nervous look to reappear. Tempest no longer found herself glaring, but was more curious than anything else. Blaise cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I thought it might be…something might have happened. Like…maybe you were…" He gestured vaguely, and at last Tempest understood.

"Pregnant?" she hissed, looking from Blaise over to Draco- Merlin, if Draco had heard such an idea! "I'm not stupid, Blaise, I wouldn't let that happen."

"Mistakes happen, I thought maybe you'd- I dunno, taken the potion or something, girls get emotional about that kind of stuff."

"And what do you know about _girls_?" Blaise pressed his lips together, stopping himself from saying anything that he may have wished to say- he knew very well it would get him into more trouble. Tempest paused, looking out into space for a moment or two to calm herself. When she looked back towards the boy in front of her, her voice shook slightly, though from anger or her previous sadness she could not tell. "You haven't said anything, have you?"

"Course not, promised, didn't I?"

"How do I know what a promise is worth to you?" He shrugged. "I don't want anyone to know."

"You don't want _Draco_ to know."

"Yes. And if anyone else knew, they'd tell, wouldn't they?"

"I don't get why you care so much about him knowing. We didn't do anything wrong."

"You don't have a sister, Blaise. You wouldn't understand."

"You're not his real sister."

Tempest paused momentarily. No, she wasn't Draco's sister. Not even close. In fact, the two hadn't even remotely liked each other until a few years previously. But it still counted. Draco cared for her in the way that she cared for him. As anyone cared for their sibling.

"I'm as good as."


	37. Chapter 37

_Life is no cabaret  
We don't care what you say  
We're inviting you anyway  
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...  
__- Sing, The Dresden Dolls_

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Professor Dumbledore looked up from his desk, and smiled gently upon seeing young Tempest standing at the doorway. He nodded, gesturing for her to come in.

"Only a small matter, dear, I assure you."

Still nervous despite the assurance, Tempest came and sat at the seat opposing the headmaster, though immediately looked down, unable to look him in the eye. She had not spoken to him for a month or two, making the situation in her eyes somewhat more awkward than it should have been.

"I know about the other night," he said after a short pause. Tempest immediately looked up, her eyes wide as she directed her attention to Dumbledore.

"What?" she said, ignoring any manners that had been drilled into her previously.

"Don't seem so surprised, there's no need for it."

"Severus told you?" At this, Dumbledore chuckled to himself, that twinkle in his eye Tempest had noticed before returning.

"No, no, he wouldn't say a word to me on the subject. No, dear, I have my own ways of finding things."

Tempest nodded, and thought inwardly that though she should have been burning with curiosity about what these ways were, she preferred to let well enough alone.

"Is this why you asked me here?"

"Partly," he admitted, standing from his seat. He did not speak immediately, and instead amused himself with the phoenix by his desk. Tempest had, of course, noticed it, but thought it rude to ask of the bird. She watched as Dumbledore moved towards it, stroking the top of its head gently. Her interest was not left unnoticed, though, and Dumbledore smiled to himself.

"Fawkes," he said aloud, causing Tempest to jump slightly. "Marvellous creature, I must say. He's shown quite an interest to your brother, you know."

"How so?"

Again, Dumbledore paused, though in a much more thoughtful way this time.

"Perhaps another time," he said after a moment, sitting back down in his seat.

"Why else am I here?" Tempest could not help but allow her impatience to get the better of her.

"Ah, yes. I assume due to the current circumstances that you will not be likely to hear of the meeting of the Order tomorrow night."

At this point, Tempest realised that there was nothing she could say to reply to this point, and so settled with saying nothing at all. The pause of silence was awkward enough to force her to look back down towards her lap.

"Do I have to go again?"

"Hmmm?" Tempest paused again, slightly surprised at the reply. It was not often that someone would reply to her with such a brief noise.

"Do I have to go again? I don't think I'm well liked."

She looked up from her lap to see Dumbledore still staring, curious in some way but without much sympathy. It was not in a cruel way that he looked with such a blankness, but rather as if waiting for more information.

"I think his name was…Remus, I think, that's what someone else had called him."

"How do you believe you weren't liked?"

"I'm sure he doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm…"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, thinking for a moment before replying. It was a subject he would have much rathered was not brought up at all; Remus of all people, he had always been the more forgiving of wizards.

"He was a close friend to your father, Remus. He became a close friend to your mother too."

"I would have thought that made him less likely to hold a grudge against me."

"You must understand," said Dumbledore quietly, leaning forward, "many did not know you were alive until months ago. Confusion can do many things to a person."

"I'm expected to let it go by because of confusion?"

"You aren't expected to do anything. But you will do what is best."

"Can I go now?"

It wasn't exactly a surprise to see her immediate sullenness. Harry had been used to being forced to use every ounce of selflessness he had. Dumbledore knew he could not expect the same of his sister. She had needed to use it before. She had never had to hold the weight of the world on her shoulders, and yet had had her fair share of misfortunes. It was only natural that she wished to withhold her altruism.

He nodded slowly, gesturing towards the door.

"Tomorrow night," he said as Tempest reached for the door. She cast the headmaster a quick look, nodded, and then disappeared behind the door.

* * *

"Can't you tell us anything?"

"No."

"But what if it's useful? What if Snape forgot something important, we could be missing out on-"

"No, Draco."

Draco stood watching Tempest as she searched about the Common Room for her cloak. She gave very little attention to him, only speaking to deny his requests for information.

"Just go without it."

"Are you joking? It's freezing outside!"

"Then don't go."

"I have to."

"No you don't."

At last enraged enough to do so, Tempest spun on her heel and glared at Draco. She opened her mouth to speak but paused upon seeing the way his arm shifted behind his back.

"_Accio_ cloak."

The cloak ripped itself from Draco's hand and flew into Tempest's own, causing him to stumble forward slightly as it did so, leaving him prone to the attack Tempest launched upon him.

"You- arrogant- bastard," she said between whipping Draco mercilessly around the head. "Stop being so childish!"

"All I'm asking is for some of the information I'm entitled to."

"But you're not entitled to it."

"Just tell me!"

Tempest smiled, but shook her head. She knew that Draco thought something was wrong. That she was hiding something purposefully.

"I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to, Draco."

"What if it helps me? I mean, _really_ helps me?"

"Then I'd tell you, but there's nothing I can or will tell you now."

Draco could not help but admit defeat by this point and walked towards Tempest, reaching out towards her. She shifted awkwardly, staring at him with slight contempt. He could not help but laugh.

"Your collar's just a bit off, that's all."

"Oh." She blushed slightly from the slight embarrassment before brushing Draco's hands away forcefully after they had finished straightening her collar. "Thanks."

"Father never did approve of scruffiness."

Both seemed to hold their breath at this moment. Neither had mentioned Lucius directly in conversation, if only to spare themselves the pain. Draco cleared his throat and looked down, stepping backwards slowly. Though it would do no use, Tempest attempted to think of something to say- anything- that might distract them from that moment. There was nothing that could be said, though, and so she could only leave him with a small smile before turning and leaving the Common Room, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head as she did so.

* * *

There were far more members of the Order at that meeting. At least double the amount. To Tempest's slight joy the Weasleys were there- she did not know what it was about them, they simply held a certain air of comfort. Severus sat almost at the edge of seat, as far away from Tempest as he possible could make it. She was not at all offended by it. In fact, she found it safer to mirror his actions so as to be as far from him as she could.

It was not only Tempest who was surprised when Dumbledore walked into the meeting. There had been rumours that he would be on another mission of some sort that night, the kind that had kept him occupied so many nights over the past year or so. They all stared in silence as he took his place at the head of the table, smiling as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

"Good evening," he said brightly, bringing a few more people to attention. A fair amount muttered their replies before anyone spoke clearly. One man stood up, a normal enough looking fellow in Tempest's opinion, and cleared his throat.

"We've spotted a few members- harmless enough, I believe- of the Death Eaters down Knockturn Alley once every few weeks."

"Where have they been going?"

"Well, a variation of shops, actually. Probably trying to throw us off, I think. They all seem to end up in Borgin and Burkes, though."

"There's always something shifty going on in there, though," said one woman- Tonks, as the other members called her. At least, that was what Tempest remembered of her. "They wouldn't go somewhere that obvious, would they?"

"Even if they did, there's nothing useful in there. We've got a list of their stock, nothing but silly ornaments without any use."

"Now, we mustn't underestimate what can be used against us," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, looking into space. "We must think of every possibility that they could use against us."

"Which is what we're doing now," said another wizard, a silver haired man who wheezed slightly as he spoke. "We'll report immediately if we find anything."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said. He looked about the room, inviting others to speak. A young woman who Tempest had not yet learnt the name of cleared her throat to speak. It was a matter of little importance in Tempest's own opinion, and so she was less inclined to listen. As she surveyed other member's faces, she could see she was not the only one. A few stared on with interest, but the majority either looked into space or at other people, sharing a look of acknowledgement.

The only thing that caught Tempest's attention during this woman's small notification was not her, but instead Remus Lupin. She had of course expected him in some way for him to mildly insult her, but did not expect him to walk out of the room without so much as a word said. She saw that not only she stared after him, but Dumbledore's attentions were also turned towards Remus.

The meeting dragged on after that point, and Tempest wished for nothing more than it to be over and done with. Not many seemed to have noticed Remus leave, though the ones who had were just as eager as she to be out of the meeting. When it had done, though, Dumbledore was the first to leave the room, thanking the Order for their appearance as he did so. He was gone before most had the chance to even stand.

A hush fell across the room, leaving them mute for a few minutes before anyone decided to leave. A fair amount Apparated on the spot, while others waited until they were outside to take their method of leave. Tempest saw quite clearly that Severus wished to go, but she ignored the looks he gave and waited by the door that she had seen both Dumbledore and Remus leave through.

She waited, simply staring at the door, until finally her curiosity caught the better of her and she could not help but press her ear against the door, if only to catch the slightest glimpse of conversation.

"-don't know how you can believe her!"

"Remus, it's no secret that you trust Severus as well as I do, why can you not trust her?"

"She has been raised by a convict, I remind you, she can't-"

"Harry was raised by Muggles," Dumbledore interrupted, his calm voice showing not an ounce of the temper one would think he should display. "And not the most savoury of Muggles, I remind you. But he has grown into a boy with as good a moral standard as you or I."

"That's completely different!"

"How so?"

"He isn't a Death Eater!"

"She is no ordinary Death Eater, Remus. She has shown no interest in their cause. More blatantly so than Severus, I must say."

"You've known that for a matter of months, not nearly long enough."

"Remus," he said seriously, causing Lupin to go quiet. "She is Lily and James's daughter. How can you expect anything of her but the best?"

There was silence on the other side of the door. The two had apparently stopped talking, but Tempest waited by door, waiting for them to speak again. She stepped back quickly when she finally heard a noise again, footsteps coming towards the door. When it opened again, Remus emerged from the room. He glanced only briefly at Tempest, who waited by the doorway, and left the room immediately after.


	38. Chapter 38

_Hear your heartbeat  
Beat a frantic pace  
And it's not even seven AM  
__- Sleep, Poets of the Fall_

_Wake up_.

Ghosts. That was all she could describe them as. Ghosts.

_Just wake up_.

The boy in the cemetery. He was just a ghost now, one that wouldn't leave her be.

_Wake up, Tempest!_

Tempest's eyes flew open and she realised the state she was in. A thin layer of sweated adorned her forehead and her heart raced. It wasn't very often that these nightmares came about, but when they did…she shuddered, wiping her sleeve across her face to rid the sweat. Judging from the lack of lit candles, Tempest assumed it to be morning, and could not help but scold herself for sleeping in so late; there wasn't anyone in the room to indicate that it was early morning at all.

Only a few minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror of the girls bathrooms again, bathing her face in the cold water. She looked in the mirror for only a second before disappearing again, more as a morning routine duty than anything else, and walked about the Common Room with very little to do.

It was one of the burdens she found was forced upon her when she was brought to Hogwarts. When she had been able to spend the year at Malfoy Manor, granted she rarely spoke to anyone, but she had plenty to do, plenty of places to go. Without the ability to Apparate or search the castle, there was nothing. For a moment Tempest even missed the idea of speaking to Narcissa.

She almost cried out with joy when finally a few more students arrived in the Common Room, unfortunately with Blaise among them. Upon seeing him, Tempest scowled slightly, though she did not avert her eyes. She saw him smile as he walked towards her, an all too familiar look in his eye.

"Been waiting for me, then?" he asked.

"No."

"Bored?"

Tempest shifted uncomfortably, looking down at her feet for a moment before returning her attention to Blaise.

"Very," she replied, taking hold of his sleeve and dragging him forcefully towards the Sixth Year dormitories.

* * *

The evenings were always the best.

In the evening, Draco had finished any homework he had been assigned- miraculously- and was far too tired to give a second thought to his mission. Pansy would often leave her homework until the last minute, doing it by the fire while they talked. And though Tempest hated herself to admit it, she was partially glad that Blaise was also there, finished with his work and such. Their conversations were always of little importance, but got them through the evening with little fuss. It was strange, but even in these times Tempest found herself forgetting the professor down the corridor, or the mark on her arm.

* * *

"Christmas is coming up," Draco said musingly as they walked down the stairway of the Divination tower. Tempest could not help but look around nervously, waiting for someone to appear from nowhere and find them.

"Your point being?"

"Just thought I'd say."

"We're not going to get caught are we?" Tempest asked, distracted.

"It's after hours, prefects are the only ones allowed out at this time of night. The two Hufflepuff airheads are the only other ones on patrol tonight and they're at the other side of the school."

She nodded, looking about her with slightly more relaxed awe. The first day she had arrived at Hogwarts, she had not imagined the place being so… well, big. They had been walking around for an hour already and still hadn't covered a half of the castle.

"How long are we saying out here for?"

"As long as you want, I guess. It's the Hogsmeade visit tomorrow, we don't exactly have to be out early."

"Great," she said absently. _The windows are so big…_

It was nice to see the sky through a window. It was something you couldn't do in the dungeons. Tempest sighed contentedly and continued walking. For the most part, the two were silent. Tempest was so satisfied with her current position that she had no need to talk and did not wish to disturb the moment.

Footsteps could, from this thought, be heard further down the corridor, at which point both Tempest and Draco started slightly. They paused momentarily, if only to see whether the footsteps became louder. They did. Draco looked towards Tempest and pointed towards a small alcove in the wall where a statue stood. She nodded and quickly ran to it, hiding herself well enough to only be seen by those who attempted to look for her.

"Who's there?" Draco called, assured that Tempest could not be found.

"Who's _that_?" a voice called back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, one vaguely familiar to Tempest while the other a complete stranger.

"Weasley," Draco hissed, glaring at the two. "Granger. This isn't your night."

"We're Prefects, Malfoy, just like you, we have as much a right to be here if we so fu-"

"Ronald!" the girl squealed, batting the boy on the arm. "He's right, though, Malfoy. The rotor is only a recommendation, we are officially allowed to check the corridors whenever we want."

"Then go and check somewhere else, Slytherin has this wing covered."

"Yeah, we could tell. Two third year students walking along a few yards back there, very well done." The boy glared bitterly towards Draco before, seemingly forgetting himself, grabbing hold of the girl's shoulder and turning her back towards the end of the corridor. A few moments later, they had disappeared, the faint murmurs of their anger disappearing with them.

Draco waited a few moments, relieving his anger through deep exhales, and then turned to face Tempest again, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Come out now," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

"Friends of yours?"

He snorted in reply and shook his head. There was no use in him saying anything, so he didn't. Instead, he held his hand out and waited for Tempest to take it before leading her down the corridor again, towards another set of stairs.

"Best we stay near the Dungeons now," he said after a few moments. "Safer, you can get away easily if someone comes along."

"You have your own worries, adding this won't help you at all."

"I know, but as long as Dumbledore's happy, _I've _got a better chance."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Have you even got a plan yet?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and looked around to stare at Tempest, letting his hand slip away from hers and land at his side. His face was blank at first, no emotion shown, as if simply scanning her. Then, slowly, he started to smile.

"Tell me what's going on with the Order."

"You know I can't."

"Then I can't tell you."

With that, Draco's smile started again to fade, and they made their way down to the Dungeons.


	39. Chapter 39

_O tidings of comfort and joy,  
Comfort and joy  
O tidings of comfort and joy_

"I'm telling you," Bellatrix said, waving her glass of whiskey freely. "No good ever came from that man! Listen to me, girl, you mustn't listen to a word that old grouch says to you!"

"You're drunk again, Bellatrix," Tempest said quietly as she reached to take the bottle away from her, but was stopped quickly as Bellatrix grabbed the bottle and held it to her chest childishly. Narcissa smiled slightly, though looked away towards the widow before anyone could notice. Draco and Rodolphus remained quite quiet, thinking it best not to interrupt Bellatrix's rant.

"I'll tell you when I'm drunk, and _I_, missy, am not drunk."

"Of course not," she muttered in reply, smiling to herself.

"You can leave those," Narcissa called out in a faint voice upon seeing Tempest gathering plates. "The house elves will take care of it."

"I thought it best to leave some people to their business." She nodded her head pointedly towards Bellatrix who was already drinking deep from her fresh glass already. A weak smile appeared on Narcissa's lips, but faded away as she turned again the window. Tempest pressed her lips together, halting anything she might have wished to say, and walked quietly into the kitchen.

_Best to stay out of the way_, she thought. _I'm the last thing she needs_.

"Am I interrupting?"

Tempest spun quickly on her heel to see Draco standing at the doorway. It was strange that only now did she notice how the past few months had taken their toll on him. His hair was unkempt, as if he'd been running his fingers through it often, and his eyes were surrounded by dark bruises displaying his fatigue. His cheekbones were sharper, as if he hadn't been eating as much.

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?"

She paused, then suddenly felt the wetness upon her cheek. She wiped away the tear hastily, uttering a quick nervous titter.

"I hadn't realised I-"

"It's alright," he said, shrugging. "Better here than in front of _dear auntie_."

"Guess I forgot how much I miss him."

Draco nodded slowly. His already dim eyes seemed to gloss over at the mention of his father, though Tempest did not notice as her own eyes became shiny with tears.

They passed a few minutes in this way, silent with equally silent tears on Tempest's part. At last, though, she cleared her throat, and Draco straightened his back slightly to try to ignore the moment.

"Sorry… I shouldn't mention him, should I?"

"There's no law against it."

"Last thing people need this time of year is to be upset, though."

"True," Draco said, smiling slightly as he said so. "Just don't bring it up in front of mother and I should think you'll be fine."

"Will you?"

He paused at this, thinking.

"No."

Tempest nodded, biting her lower lip tightly. She knew very well that neither of them would be fine until their father returned.

* * *

There was a thick layer of snow surrounded The Burrow now, thick enough to hear when one walked across it. Molly stood waiting by the chicken coop for some sign that Arthur's patronus had been accepted. Everyone was out in the back garden playing a quick game of Quidditch that she suspected would not be as quick as they had previously promised, which worked out perfectly well in her opinion.

Finally she heard a light pop from the distance as a figure appeared near the horizon, cloaked in light grey. Molly straightened herself, brushing dust from her apron and looked behind her as if to check that she was still alone. As she came closer, Tempest's face showed a sense of concern that Molly had not seen before, but it was enough to make the girl seem softer in some way.

"Arthur said you wanted to see me," she said, her words slightly more erratic than usual when she spoke. Molly smiled widely.

"Yes, yes, he did. Come inside, you look frozen."

It was true, Tempest thought to herself. She partly blamed the timing of the weasel-formed patronus which arrived only moments after a long walk in the snow, forcing her to leave again just when she had become cold enough to go back inside. Tempest looked around her cautiously, knowing for a fact where she was, and who was there with her.

"Have you asked Dumbledore's permission for me to be here?" she asked as they entered the house. "He won't be very pleased if Harry sees me," Tempest added upon seeing Molly's quizzical look.

"It's very silly business, I don't see how he could be any more distressed than he already is," Molly replied, her cheeks flushed slightly. Upon seeing Tempest's shock, she laughed, shaking her head. "I asked, dear, I asked. Everyone's outside, playing Quidditch. Family tradition."

"Shame to miss it," Tempest mused, but the sarcasm seemed to go over Molly's head as she bustled around the kitchen they had entered, absent-mindedly casting a few spells to manoeuvre pots about the room before rustling through one of the draws near the sink.

"I know I put it around here somewhere…"

"Please, Mrs Weasley, it's really not safe for me to be here right now."

"Nonsense, they'll be out there for hours yet. Ah! Here it is."

As soon as she heard the familiar crinkling and saw a glimpse of shine, Tempest stepped backwards and shook her head, looking at the present as if it were about to explode.

"No," she said, still staring at the package. "You really don't have to."

"Yes, I do. It isn't much, but I-"

"Is this what you asked me here for? A present?"

"There's no discussing the matter, you're taking it."

"No, I'm not."

The two women stood there for a few moments, staring at each other in attempts to enforce their opinion in the argument. Tempest was the first to look away, suddenly ashamed with her behaviour towards this acquaintance. Mrs Weasley still looked on, but her features were changed to represent a higher sense of triumph upon winning against the girl.

"Even if I do take the present, I won't be surprised by it," Tempest said finally, her voice again slightly erratic in her attempts of forcefulness. "I know very well there's a jumper in there, the Weasleys are famed for it."

"Well then, you shouldn't feel as guilty taking it."

"_You're_ the one who feels guilty. Because you've been giving Harry attention for the past five years."

"Now, that's just-"

"Utterly and one hundred per cent true. And don't deny it." Tempest held her breath, hearing her words for the first time in her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so upfront, it's terribly rude of me. I just don't believe you need to prove anything."

"If you insist, dear," Molly said, placing the package on the table, a wounded mask now on her face. Tempest tilted her chin up, still ashamed, but determined not to let it show.

"Besides," Tempest continued, unsure of why she was still speaking. "Even if I did take it, we know each other so little that I'm sure it wouldn't mean much to either of us." She laughed to herself at a thought she had. "You wouldn't even know what colour to make it."

Tempest turned to leave the kitchen, nodding her head to bid her farewell, but was stopped as Molly spoke again.

"If it helps," she said, her smile apparent in her speech, "it's orange."

There was only a brief moment in which Tempest waited before staring at Molly with a look of confusion, biting her lip. The look of triumph Molly held was one that could not be beaten by any other victory in the world, it seemed, as she folded her arms and grinned. With a snort of disbelief, shaking her head, Tempest moved quickly and took hold of the present, walking away without looking back once as Mrs Weasley laughed uproariously, even more so upon hearing the distinct _pop_ of Tempest Disapparating only moments after leaving the house.

"Mum?"

Amongst the laughter, Molly heard her youngest son ask for her, and she quickly attempted to calm herself, wiping a tear away. She turned to face Ron, whose confusion and surprise could never be surpassed.

"What the hell are you doing, mum?"

"Must've been something from Fred and George," she said quickly- plausible enough. "Honestly, they've been leaving things around so often that I'm surprised everyone's still breathing."

Content enough with the story, but still wary, Ron walked backwards out of the kitchen, returning to the Quidditch game.


	40. Chapter 40

_Cos when you sleep at night  
__They don't hear your cries  
__In your own world  
__-Stay, Shakespeare Sisters_

The next few months went by like a dream. A nightmare. Tempest fiddled with what she could identify as a stick between her fingers, a few sparks emitting from it every so often.

"_You wanted to see me, Professor?" Tempest asked as she poked her head around the office door. Dumbledore smiled welcomingly, his eyes twinkling._

"_Yes, yes I did. Come in, sit."_

She placed the wand on the table in front of her, glaring at it with a sense of hatred.

"_I must admit, Tempest, over the months I've become somewhat more curious about your magic."_

"_What about it, sir?"_

"_Well, I have come across so few of your age who can perform wandless magic, it is something that fascinates me slightly."_

_Tempest nodded, quite unsure where the conversation was going, but sure that eventually it would be of use. Dumbledore held up a finger to signal a moment, and looked through the drawers of his desk, pulling out an assortment of thin wooden boxes which seemed rather dusty._

"_I can't say I understand, sir," Tempest said upon seeing the boxes._

"_Just an experiment of mine, I hope you don't mind participating."_

"_Do I have a choice?"_

_Dumbledore laughed lightly, though did not answer, and instead pushed the closest box to him towards Tempest. He nodded at it, and Tempest quickly opened it to see a wand inside. She looked up, still slightly confused, but seeing the calm look that the headmaster held, she took hold of the wand._

"_I don't suppose that worked," he said, and he took the wand back, carefully placing it in the box._

_Three more wands were tried that evening before Tempest felt a strange warmth in her fingertips, making itself known when spark flew from the tip of it. She watched Dumbledore for a moment, still as bemused as before, and was nt sure whether or not she was to be comforted by the delighted smile on his lips._

"_Would you mind?" he asked. Tempest nodded, sure enough she knew what to do, and stood, pointing the wand towards the wall._

"_Avifors." A pile of books from the other side of the room seemed to explode into a flock of birds that fluttered about the room, much to Fawkes' alarm._

"_Does that seem different at all?" Dumbledore asked calmly._

"_Not preferably so," she replied, placing the wand gently on the desk. Dumbledore nodded slowly, watching as Tempest stared at the birds. She was sure he was thinking of something, something important, though she couldn't put her finger on it._

"_If you wouldn't mind," he started, his voice still slow and calm, "would you vanish the birds?"_

_Tempest nodded again, turning herself fully towards the birds, most of which seemed to be dancing around the bottom of Fawkes' stand._

"_Evanesco."_

_Nothing._

Tempest's hand clenched on her lap as she thought, her eyes closing tightly.

"_It's not working," she murmured._

"_I thought so," Dumbledore said, reaching again for the wand and standing, offering it to Tempest. She looked at it with some sort of disgust._

"_You thought this would happen?"_

"_Actually, I was quite sure it would happen."_

_By now, Tempest was trembling with fury._

"_I'm not even quite sure what has happened, sir, if you don't mind telling me." The words came out harshly, more so than she had intended, but she did not regret it._

"_When a witch or wizard is young," he said, "they have a certain ability of magic, before trained, before even given contact with a wand, as I'm sure you know. My theory is, and always has been, that once a wizard has a wand, or the wand has a wizard, their innate ability to control this magic is lost, filtered through the wand."_

"_And you wanted me to be filtered."_

"_You're a powerful witch, Tempest. And I worry about it sometimes."_

"_You still don't trust me, do you?" she whispered, looking down at the wand in her hand._

_He did not even have to answer the question. Instead, Dumbledore placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, a sad smile still there. Tempest could not- would not- return it, and still looked down._

"_One day you'll understand this decision," he said reassuringly, though his tone did no good for her._

She was determined she would never understand the decision.

Ever since February, Tempest had been unable to perform wandless magic. Draco and Blaise had made their best attempts to distract her from this, but it had consumed her. Even Severus had made small attempts to make her forget. The innate stubbornness in her, though, refused to allow such comforts, and for months she spoke only when it was required in meetings before the Dark Lord.

It was not until late May that Tempest was forced to ignore her wand and brought back to reality. She sat alone by the fire in the common room, staring into the flames and pondering whether it would do any use to throw the _beloved_ thing into the fire when the doorway was opened and a rather flustered Draco entered. Tempest did not notice as he did so, and was rudely awakened from her daze when she felt him grab her arm roughly, dragging her to her feet.

"Wha-"

"I need to show you something," Draco said, his voice shaking slightly. "I need to- no, I need you to do something for me."

"Just leave me alone, Draco, get someone else."

"It needs to be you."

Tempest did not argue back and instead allowed herself to be dragged out into the dungeons, grabbing her wand more out of duty than wanting before they left. She hadn't realised until they stepped out that it was night and wondered briefly how long she had locked herself away for. She knew it was months, but how many still remained a mystery. Draco's steps were quicker than she expected, yet somewhat careful. He seemed to know from instinct when to hide, when someone would be going up the corridors, and when to carry on walking.

It was not until Draco stopped, staring at a blank wall, that Tempest concentrated on one thing, this being the absurdity of the situation. She watched the wall carefully for a moment, as if willing it to have some meaning, but it did nothing of the sort. She then watched Draco, who too was staring at the wall quite determinedly, waiting for something to happen. He slowly closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and within moments Tempest could see the wall changing, a door forming.

"The Room of Requirement," he muttered under his breath slowly, breathing out a sigh. Draco allowed himself a moment before grasping Tempest's wrist tightly and dragging her into the room, his brow furrowed with concentration.

Tempest could not help but gasp when she entered the room. It was simply so… full. There were so many items that her eyes could not concentrate on a single one- a sensation which was emphasised by the constant movement. The room was deep, taking forever for them to find whatever it was that Draco was looking for. A few things caught Tempest's eye, as if she had seen them before, as if they had simply been made to be seen. It was such a disappointment to her when they did finally stop before a large cabinet covered in a sheet.

"Why are we here?" she asked as Draco pulled the sheet away.

"You'll see," he said quietly. "It's time."

"Time for what?"

He opened the cabinets doors to reveal the strange emptiness. Tempest could not help but be surprised. Why would he bring her here to show her nothing. Draco then turned slightly, gesturing towards the space.

"Get in."

"You're joking, right?"

"You'll understand in a bit. Just get in."

Though she loathed to do it, Tempest ignored every ounce her body that screamed for her to disobey him and sat gently in the cabinet, drawing her legs up after her.

"What's this all about?"

"You'll see."

With that, Draco closed the door, the click echoing. Moments later she felt a rush of air coursing through her body, lasting only seconds, if that. It left her shivering slightly, wishing she had brought her cloak with her despite the now warming season. Tempest jumped noticeably as the door was opened and it was not Draco's familiar face that she saw.

"Mr Borgin," Tempest croaked, alarmed- she had only seen the man on a small amount of occasions and had never been quite happy to see him at any of these points. She stepped from the cabinet quickly upon seeing him move towards her, determined to make her move before he could force her. Silently, without even a glance in Tempest's way, Borgin closed the cabinet doors, and a slight _whoosh_ could be heard.

Once the _whoosh_ was heard again, Borgin looked towards Tempest and muttered 'Get in' roughly, his tone bored and yet forceful. Without argument, Tempest opened the cabinet doors and stepped inside, refusing to allow herself to look at the shopkeeper as she did so. That familiar rush of air made itself known again before stopping suddenly, at which point the doors were opened again.

"What was that?" Tempest asked, taking hold of Draco's proffered hand.

"Vanishing Cabinet," Draco said, a smile of disbelief on his lips. "We haven't tried it with anyone yet. Seems to work."

"I'm your test subject?"

"Pretty much."

Tempest pulled a face, reaching into her pocket to assure herself that she still had her wand in her possession, more out of an obligation than anything else. Without much inclination to speak another word to Draco, Tempest turned her back and walked out of the room, assuming him- correctly- to immediately follow.


	41. Chapter 41

_I've got my eye on you  
Tell me what are you tryin' to prove?  
-I've Got My Eye On You, Jem and the Holograms_

Draco did not seem to wish to speak to Tempest for the remainder of the month. In fact, he barely seemed to speak to anyone. Tempest reluctantly told Dumbledore this when she was next summoned to his office. She sat stiffly when in his presence, still maintaining her severe distaste for her situation. Severus sat in quite a similar position in his own seat, staring intently at Dumbledore, waiting for anything of significance to be said.

"Has he spoken to you of his plans?" Dumbledore asked calmly, his eye contact quite alarming to her.

"I hardly see how it's ethical for me to spy on my friend."

"And I hardly see how it is ethical for you to hide information that may very well save a man's life," Severus snapped, glaring at Tempest bitterly.

"Now, Severus, I have told you, I don't plan to-"

"I do not care for what you have planned, I _refuse_."

"You refuse to allow me to die with dignity?"

Severus pursed his lips together, still glaring, but with a slightly more bitter silence surrounding him. Tempest looked at him briefly before returning her gaze forward.

"He's using a vanishing cabinet," she said quietly. "It leads to Borgin and Burke."

"Clever young lad, isn't he?" Dumbledore mused, smiling to himself. "I certainly didn't expect it of him."

_Only you could compliment someone hell bent on killing you,_ Severus thought bitterly, though he held the opinion to himself. His knuckles turned slightly paler as he clenched his fists.

"Am I perturbing you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked with light amusement. Tempest turned her head slightly to look at the Potions Master who still stared forward, his lips pursed before he spoke.

"I cannot deny that your… it seems almost delight, it disturbs me in a way."

"I find young Draco's methods somewhat interesting, it cannot be helped."

Once more Severus found himself inclined to remain silent, not a single thought in his mind that he was prepared to speak out. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to cloud over as he turned again to Tempest, knowing quite well Severus had taken this new vow of silence.

"I would like to make sure that he is not left alone for too long," Dumbledore mused, his thoughts directed towards the girl. "A boy of his age and in such a situation is as much a danger to himself as he is to others."

"So you've said," she replied in a clipped tone. "Though that isn't in my power. I'm not exactly allowed out much."

"You're an intelligent girl, I'm sure you will find a way."

Tempest nodded, but her nose wrinkled slightly as she thought over the words. She seemed to have heard words to that effect one too many times over the past months for her liking. None of the three spoke for a short while before Dumbledore gave into the lack of conversation, seeing very little he wished to add onto the topic of young Draco without worrying he may disturb the girl before him. He dismissed them both, bidding them goodnight.

"Have you any ideas, then?" Severus sneered as the gargoyle closed the door behind them. "Clever young girl that you are."

"You're a horrible person, you know that?" He said nothing in reply, but the way that his lip curled sent a shiver of annoyance down her spine. "He was joking, right?"

"About?"

"The intelligence stuff. That's the guilt talking." Severus did not reply, though it was well understood between the two of them what said silence meant. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"You may not be intelligent, but you're talented," Severus said slowly, suddenly more grave. "I'm sure you will think of something of use to us."

"Don't I always," she murmured under her breath, savouring the last ounce of the clear, yellow lights before they arrived in the darkness of the dungeons. Tempest breathed in that familiar and- sickeningly, she thought- comforting dampness in the air before she spoke again. "Will he want to know what I do?"

"I wouldn't have thought so."

"Will _you_?"

"Most certainly not."

It was at this point that Severus turned away down the dungeon's corridor, leaving Tempest wavering slightly at the Slytherin common room doorway.

"Purity." The doorway opened the way into the common room. The room was unusually full; a group of fourth years seemed to have gathered the majority of first years around them with a strange fireworks display, other students sitting around and looking over their shoulders every so often as if to check on the events behind them.

Tempest looked about the room, watching for any sign of movement that might indicate Draco's appearance. He was nowhere to be seen at that point, and nor did many of the sixth years in general. She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned sharply to see herself mistaken in her previous assumptions, Pansy standing behind her. There was the slightest hint of a smile that gave the idea of a small amount of happiness in seeing her on Pansy's lips.

"Where've you been?" she asked lightly, the tone insinuating mere curiosity rather than any sinister need to know.

"Nowhere important," Tempest replied. "Pansy, have you seen Draco around?"

"Not since lunch."

"Do you know where he is?"

Pansy shook her head, leading Tempest to sigh exasperatedly. How was she expected to keep up with someone who disappeared on a whim?

"Blaise said he hangs around in the bathroom a lot," Pansy said musingly, nodding towards the doorway that led to the male dormitories. "If that helps."

"Utterly." However, as Tempest turned and began her way towards the doorway, Pansy grabbed hold of the girl's elbow, suddenly alarmed.

"Come off it, Tempest, even _I_ don't go up to the boy's dormitories."

"It's not forbidden."

"No, but who just goes waltzing into the boys' _bathroom_ of all places?"

"Apparently I do," Tempest replied, and quickly pulled her arm from Pansy's grip to run to the doorway, leaving Pansy standing there with a slight look of bemusement across her face. With a quick shrug to herself, the Slytherin student left the Common Room, deciding there was most likely something more interesting to do than ponder over Tempest's strange ideas.

Tempest ignored the stares of the two third year boys that watched her with curiosity as she marched up the staircase, eventually ending up at the boys' bathroom. She held her hand poised in the air, prepared to knock, but saw sense and entered after chiding herself inwardly. At first, the figure that stood hunched over the farthest sink remained hidden from her, but upon walking lightly into the room, Tempest eventually came across it.

"Draco?" she whispered, though the quietness of her voice did not stop him from flinching when he turned around to see Tempest there.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed. It was only at this point that she noticed his tear-stained face.

"Oh, Draco."

"Don't start pitying me," Draco said firmly, straightening up and passing his sleeve across his face. "I don't need it."

"Of course you don't, I know that."

"Then just go." The sharpness in his tone caused Tempest to stiffen slightly. It had been a while since he had spoken to her in such a way, and all those years ago any hostility between them had been purely that of sibling rivalry.

"You may not need pity," Tempest said after a pause of silence, moving towards him and straightening the collar of his shirt, "but you do need someone to sort you out."

Draco did not move, nor did he speak, but simply allowed Tempest to take away the tie that hung limp and loosely fastened around his neck and eventually straightened his collar perfectly.

"There you go," she murmured when she was done, trying to avoid Draco's eyes. Not that he made much of an attempt to catch her own, but she felt there was something strangely perverted to look a person in the eye when they were in such a state.

"Did Severus send you here?" Draco asked quietly, his gaze fixed to the ground.

"Does it matter?"

"I'd like to know."

"And I'd like for you not to know." Tempest paused a moment, looking up towards Draco again. "I'm here. That's what counts."

"You shouldn't be here."

"Look, I already told Pansy, there's no real rule so I-"

"No," Draco said. "No, you just shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be part of this."

"You can't do it on your own." Tempest could not believe she had finally said it out loud, certainly not so seriously. "I never thought you could."

"Thanks for the pep talk," he said bitterly, pushing Tempest away from him. She held onto his wrist, though, determined.

"You don't need a pep talk, Draco, you need a reality check. I'm not going anywhere while you're like this, and with good reason."

With lips pressed tightly together, Draco nodded stiffly before turning and leaning again over the sink.

"It doesn't matter what you say. I've got to do this alone. Or he'll-"

"He won't kill you," Tempest intervened.

"And how can you be so sure?"

"If he would ever kill you, he would have done it by now. The Malfoys are too useful an asset to him."

"You sound so sure."

"I am. Your family's been loyal since the beginning."

Draco nodded slightly, but still didn't move. There was a slight pause again of silence that almost created an echo of its own in the large room before finally Tempest noticed a small detail that almost caused her to burst into tears of her own. Slowly but surely, Draco's shoulders started to shake at an increasingly violent rate before his whimpers of fear became nothing more than a desperate cry that bounced of the walls, invading Tempest's ears with a severe violence.

"I can't do it," he said finally between sobs, his face stained again and his teeth gritted.

"I know."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Let someone else take care of it." He snorted, shaking his head, much to Tempest's confusion. "I'm not joking, Draco. Voldemort wants- _don't_ flinch like that- Voldemort wants Dumbledore dead. He's sending others into the school isn't he? He's prepared for what will happen if you don't follow through. It's all just an attempt to scare you."

"And he told you this?"

"If he did, I wouldn't have been allowed to tell you, would I?"

With a swift movement, Tempest pulled at Draco's arm and pulled him aside far enough to stand in front of him, separating him from the sink. He still refused to look at her, and Tempest loathed the idea but could not help but look up in the hopes to catch his glance, not caring any more for the perverseness of the idea or the obvious fact that he did not wish to look back at her.

"There's no point in trying to bite off more than you can chew, Draco. You just end up choking."

A half-smile appeared on Draco's lips briefly before disappearing as quickly as it came. He looked up finally, not exactly giving a direct gaze, but close enough for Tempest to be content with.

"Tempest?"

"Yeah?"

"I…"

He trailed off, not quite sure what to say. Tempest waited patiently, her brow furrowed slightly as she waited for anything else to be said to expand on. Draco waited patiently, waiting for something of use to pop into his head and occupy his empty mind, to give him something- anything- to say. Finally, to his surprise, he leant forward, placing one hand gently against Tempest's jaw line.

Neither were quite prepared when their lips met.


	42. Chapter 42

_I don't have the courage to carry out my dreams  
And only there will I see them  
Die die die die die die die die die die die die  
__-Ex Lover's Lovers, Voltaire_

Despite the night's pleasures, Tempest could not help but notice Draco's severity. The way that his brow furrowed gave no idea of hiding this fact. She looked towards him for a few moments before placing a hand gently on his chest, kissing his cheek.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

"Not really."

"Sickle then?"

"Why're you so curious?"

"Because I thought you'd have cheered up after last night. Works for most."

"The last thing I need is any of _those_ stories," Draco said as he sat up, pulling his legs over the edge of the bed tiredly.

"Draco," Tempest murmured after Draco had dressed himself, silence reigning through this. "You're worrying me. What's the matter?"

Draco turned around, his eyes blank and seeming almost dead as he considered an answer. He swallowed thickly, and for a moment looked as if he were about to faint.

"It's tonight. I… I think it's tonight."

"What's tonight?"

"_It's_ tonight."

Tempest's brow furrowed momentarily before finally she gasped out loud.

"It can't be!"

"It is, though."

"You're not ready!"

"You said that already."

"Wait until tomorrow," Tempest pleaded, her eyes wide. "Please? Just tomorrow?"

"It's not my choice."

"Of course it is! It's only one more day. Twenty four more hours, that's all I'm asking for. You're not-"

"I'm not ready, I get it."

"Don't take it the wrong way."

With a light yet oddly forced smile, Draco sat at the edge of the bed, looking at Tempest. He shook his head slightly before speaking with a calmness that she did not expect from him at that moment in time.

Tempest bit her lip, looking down at her now folded hands, thinking for a moment. After this time she grabbed her dressing gown quickly, thrusting it on with a strange recklessness. She ran about the room, collecting her things as Draco watched on with no end of bemusement.

"What're you doing?"

"If Dumbledore's there, you're safe," she muttered as if to herself.

"How'd you get that?"

"Simple," Tempest replied, grinning slightly to herself. "He's always disappearing, won't tell us why yet, but he does. Voldemort's not gonna be stupid enough to attack when he can summon up all the staff at will. He's waiting for the element of surprise."

"But he's already _planned_ it!"

"So? He can always change his mind."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. This wasn't what he needed. No, he wanted a quiet day. He wanted more than anything a quiet spot, just somewhere to wait in silence.

"You're starting to think like him, you know."

"And that's such a bad thing? Thought you'd want someone with that sort of mind."

"A sick mind?"

Tempest paused, slowing down her movements to an almost deliberately slothful gesture.

"You mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"That he's sick."

Draco's nose wrinkled slightly in disgust. Mortification, even.

"I never said that."

"Yes you did. Well, more or less."

"I didn't."

"There's no shame in it, you know. I bet your father doesn't think very highly of him anymore."

At this point Draco pressed his lips together, silencing himself from whatever he wished to say. He sat down heavily at the edge of his bed, watching Tempest finish pulling on her shoe with the same blankness he had been so accustomed to for many months now.

"Whatever you feel like saying or checking," Draco said slowly, "it doesn't matter. _He_ planned for it to be tonight. No one gets to change that. You or your logic either."

Frowning slightly, Tempest ignored Draco's comment. She knew very well she would not stop the plans. She could not. Yet there was something still so childishly hopeful in hoping the change would come.

* * *

With a slow deliberation, Tempest unwound the bandage around her arm, revealing the Dark Mark. It had been so long since she had looked at it directly. Even when she bathed her arm had always been turned so she would not have to see the mark. She shuddered slightly upon looking at it, distracting herself quickly by pulling on her cloak. Draco had already gone. It was already planned. He would be the first to arrive. He would do his part.

When she moved away, Tempest was quite sure that she was running but could feel nothing but the air pass as slowly as if she had been walking. She was quite sure of her destination- the Room of Requirement- yet could not help but feel the doubt within her creep into her mind with an unyielding determination. Her concentration attempted to settle on something- anything- remotely pleasant. Bellatrix, perhaps? No, she never quite liked Bellatrix under these certain circumstances. Bellatrix's personality was one for parties and dull days, not for the thrill of murder.

It seemed no time at all before Tempest found herself by the side of the Vanishing Cabinet again. Yet the hour in which she waited seemed a lifetime. When finally the hour was done, Tempest shook slightly upon the sound of the whooshing in the cabinet. She had only the vaguest idea of who came through at that point. The Carrows, though she could not register which was which, their hideous faces blurring into a set of trolls. Upon seeing Bellatrix emerge from the wardrobe, Tempest felt bile rise in her throat. She had never seen such delight in Bellatrix's eyes. Though she had always hoped such enjoyment would be sparked from a more innocent notion, it was not at all a surprise that death brought on such a look in her eyes.

"It'll be over soon," she said breathily as they walked through the corridors. "He'll be _so_ pleased."

"Calm down," Tempest muttered under her breath, her eyes darting from side to side, waiting for someone to appear. "Show some decorum, this isn't one of your petty raids."

"Who needs any damned decorum?"

_Fair enough_.

Whatever fear or panic Tempest felt in that moment, or any of the moments leading up to it, crashed into a rubble of pity upon entering the Astronomy Tower. Draco stood there as firmly as he could, but with little success. Dumbledore did not seem to be doing much better. Of course, that same calmness that he was so accustomed to portraying still was there, but the weakness in his stance and his half closed eyes betrayed his powerless nature.

Fenrir played the most prominent role in Draco's fear at that moment in time.

"I didn't know he was going to come-"

"I wouldn't miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore." A shudder ran through Tempest's spine as she heard the werewolf speak. "Not where there are throats to be ripped out… delicious, delicious…"

_Why has he been brought here?_ Tempest could not help but wonder this to herself as she knew very well Draco wondered too. It seemed almost vulgar to bring such a murderer into the midst of a school.

"Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us can-"

But quite suddenly as Alecto screeched, the doors flung open, the noise from outside suddenly louder, and Severus Snape entered the room, his face somewhat paler than usual and his dark eyes watching the scene before him. Tempest could not help but hold her breath, asking herself quickly whether her hope should be raised.

_I've changed my mind,_ she thought inwardly, trembling. _I'll do anything. I'll go through any curse. Don't kill him, just don't kill him, there won't be anything left if we-_

"Severus," Dumbledore whispered, such a plead in his voice that Tempest thought she heard doubt in her hopeful daze. "Severus- please-"

_Yes, please- please don't- no one else could-_

Then in one curse, whoosh of the breeze as Dumbledore's body was flung out of the room, it was over.


	43. Chapter 43

_Don't you feel like severing  
__Everything's just come together at last  
__It's broken I don't want to play…  
__-Evelyn Evelyn_

Hogwarts had never seemed so much of a blur as it did in those next few minutes. Draco's eyes watered slightly, more out of fear than any form of sorrow. He hadn't killed that night. But Dumbledore _was_ dead. How could he be punished for not doing the deed when someone had taken the job from him. He was almost ready to kill, _almost_. If he had just a few more moments…

Tempest could almost hear his thoughts ringing in her head. _You couldn't have done it_ she thought, as if waiting to hear a reply. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Draco walked briskly alongside her, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. At her other side, Tempest could see that Severus stared ahead with a determination set in his eyes, though she could see distinctly as a muscle twitched in his jaw.

They finally made it to the grounds of Hogwarts, everyone by this point either sickened or irritated with Bellatrix's mad cackling, her delight finding no end in itself.

"She's going to antagonise someone," Draco muttered under his breath, his tone despairing.

"No one's gonna want to stop us. Dumbledore's dead, don't you think they'll be a bit occupied?"

"Think again."

He was proven quite soon to be right. The crowd was broken up by an ill-aimed spell and a roar of indignant rage. Severus turned about sharply, directing his wand towards the attacker. Tempest stopped a few yards ahead of the professor, staring intently as the flashes of green and red lit up the grounds on such a dark night.

"Fight back! Fight back, you cowardly-"

"Coward, did you call me, Potter?"

Tempest whimpered aloud to herself, her feet shifting slightly. He was so close. Just a little way away, she could even just shout something and he'd be able to hear her. Maybe he'd stop, maybe the others would be able to get away. _No, Dumbledore didn't want that._

"Run, Draco!" The abrupt sound of Severus's voice brought Tempest to a realisation that Draco had been pulling her arm for quite some time. She stumbled slightly before grabbing hold of Draco's elbow in return and running alongside him, following the other Death Eaters.

"What's he gonna do?" Tempest asked between pants as they neared the edge of the grounds.

"Who cares? Just hurry up!"

She obeyed the order, watching as the other Death Eaters appeared closer and closer. Without a moment to waste, Tempest did not feel inclined to look back as they ran, instead concentrating on the nearing freedom. At least, form of freedom.

"Don't let go," Draco shouted as they passed the gates of Hogwarts. He took a firmer hold of Tempest's arm and closed his eyes, concentrating fiercely. Tempest felt herself being dragged into Apparation, the last thing she saw of Hogwarts being Bellatrix Disapparating, a large smile imprinted on her face.

* * *

Draco paced the hallway, his hair sticking up at odd ends as his hands raked through with persistent angst. The clicking of his shoes echoed loudly, causing him to flinch with almost every step. Tempest sat on the window ledge, her hands gripping her upper arms tightly, rubbing to give any heat that she could get. The two had been left alone for some time while a meeting was taking place discussing Draco's position within the Death Eaters. Every so often he would utter a sharp noise of undetermined emotion before continuing his pacing.

"Don't you have some petty so called supportive comment to make?" he snapped after a certain period of time. Tempest looked up, her cheeks pale.

"Why? You want one?"

"No."

"Then don't ask."

With a quick noise of rage, Draco kicked the wall, grunting as the sharp pain made itself apparent in his foot.

"Why don't they just hurry up?"

"Why do you want them to? I'm in no hurry to hear what they have to say."

"He can't think of anything worse than how this feels now."

"Then you won't look forward to this," Tempest muttered, resting her forehead on her folded arms. She found herself quite suddenly restless, unable to stop herself from fiddling with her hair or rubbing her nose against the back of her hand. "Do you think he already knows?"

"About…?"

"Yeah."

"So what if he does? Nothing's gonna happen to his precious little pet now, is it?"

"What about you?"

"I don't want to think about it."

"Neither do I."

The two jumped, Tempest gathering her feet from under her and standing quickly. The door had finally opened, Peter Pettigrew standing in the corridor seemed somewhat more hushed than it had been previously and Tempest found herself missing that dreadfully repetitive thud of Draco's shoes on the floor.

"H-he wants to see you," Pettigrew stuttered before allowing them into the room. Tempest's hand twitched to reach out, just for the comfort of holding another, but her common sense halted her from such an action lest it should worsen the punishment either of them was to receive.

It was not long before Draco's nervousness became apparent again, his body wracked with shakes and his breathing became slightly heavier. Tempest could not say that she did much better, maintaining her calm enough only to stop herself from shaking, though her breathing certainly did betray her fear. She asked herself what it was she had to fear, and was quite unsure, thinking it unlikely to be punished. Whatever the reason, she was scared, and had only this to concentrate on.

The two stood before Voldemort, looking up with mixed emotions. He surveyed them both before his eyes settled on Tempest and his hand waved her away. Draco swallowed thickly, his throat closing up as this simple action was taken. Tempest herself could feel her breathing becoming harder as she backed away into the circle of Death Eaters, all of whom watched Draco. Some with a sick curiosity, others with a form of pity in their eyes. Either way, it would not help him at this point.

"Draco," the Dark Lord said slowly, his eyes glowing slightly. "I set you a task, did I not?"

"You did, my Lord," he replied, his voice quiet and breathy.

"I did not assign this task to anyone other than you, did I?"

"No, my Lord."

"Pity, then, that another of my followers should be sent to do the job that was not given to him, is it now?"

"Yes, m-my Lord."

Draco's scream suddenly pierced through the air as Voldemort pointed his wand to him, the Cruciatus Curse sent quick through the tip of his wand. Whether they had been curious or pitiful, none of the Death Eaters could bring themselves to look on at that moment. Tempest felt a hand brush against her wrist and looked back ever so slightly to see Bellatrix turn slightly paler than usual at the sight.

"I expected better," he sneered as he took his place again in his seat, watching Draco twitch slightly, recovering from the pain. "Leave my sight."

It took only moments then for Draco to recover enough to stumble to his feet and shuffle back into the circle of Death Eaters, his head bowed low and his eyes red and tired. A stony silence overtook the room before finally Voldemort lifted his hand again and motioned a finger towards the crowd.

"Severus," he whispered, his voice a mere hiss.

Severus Snape stepped forward from the crowd, looking forward blankly with dark, unblinking eyes. He remained this way until stopping short of Voldemort, bowing lowly before dropping to one knee. He then only looked at the floor, his eyes still wide.

"My Lord?"

"You have done me well, Severus. Over the years as well as tonight."

"I live only to serve you, my Lord."

"I know this. You have done well as my spy, Severus, and I am glad to see such services done. You know that

you shall return to Hogwarts come September."

"My Lord, you have told me such."

"Yes, I believe I have. But I feel that I have not rewarded you well enough for your efforts."

"I cannot ask anything of you, my Lord."

"No, I know that you would not. But what you want is none of my business, what you shall have is of my decision only."

"Of course."

"Then you will accept it with gratitude."

Before Severus could answer this with any form of affirmation, Voldemort stretched out a hand again and pointed a finger towards the crowd. Before any time had passed, Tempest could feel her stomach drop and her blood run cold, though whether this was from a spell or not she could not tell. She was dragged forward until she landed on her knees and upon looking up found herself being stared at cautiously by all. In her confusion, Tempest looked up towards Severus whose disgust could not have been more apparent.

"Macnair, Carrow, take her down the corridors."

Two pairs of hands grabbed Tempest's upper arm before she felt herself being heaved to her feet. It was moments before she was able to comprehend her situation and her instinct to fight back kicked in. She attempted to pull her arms away but, finding it impossible, her natural instinct came and she began to scream, her voice almost immediately raw with the power of it.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked as she was dragged away. "Get off me!"

Many stood shocked in their place as they heard the screams growing fainter and fainter while those with a callous indifference walked away as Voldemort waved his hand to dismiss them. Severus stood still, his teeth set as he halted himself from protesting in a similar fashion.

"My Lord, though I- though I am- _grateful_- for your generosity, I must protest."

"No, you mustn't. You must leave me now and accept what you have been given as you gave me your word you would."

"But, my Lord, I have displayed no- I mean, I have never wished for-"

"Severus," Voldemort interrupted sharply, "you are trying my patience."

He waved his hand again and Severus found himself unable to stand his ground any longer. He rose from his position, bowing his head once more before leaving. As he moved on, he could not help but scold himself. How dare he not expect this one day? It seemed so simple a solution to a seemingly long forgotten problem that it was exactly the sort of thing that the Dark Lord would try and fix.

Severus approached the door he knew that Tempest waited behind, though his angst made him uncertain and he waited momentarily. A loud crash was heard, and with an inward, ironic smile Severus found that he was in the supposedly right place. He opened the door gently, seeing that Tempest had her back turned to him and her wand in her hand, pointing it at random objects in the room and flinging them to another wall. The soft click of the door closing roused her attention, causing a vase to crash beside Severus's head on the wall.

"Don't come near me," she hissed, holding her wand pointed directly towards him. "Don't you _dare_-"

"I'm not going to do anything to you," Severus said quietly, bringing out his own wand in retaliation. "Though if you attempt to curse me, I will fire back."

"You wouldn't!"

"You know as well as I do that I would."

Tempest bit her lower lip before lowering her wand finally, though still keeping a firm grip on it.

"If you're not going to do anything then just leave."

"I came to explain-"

"The situation's pretty clear. You wanted someone else to take the blame for your dirty work rather than say anything directly."

"I'm sorry to knock that ego of yours, but that isn't the case."

"Then why didn't you ask for something else?" Tempest asked, her voice quiet now. "You could have had- could have had anything, I guess. So why'd you not ask for anything? Didn't you think that-"

"I did not suppose he would take you as a replacement," Severus snapped.

"A replacement."

"Don't play the fool."

Tempest gnawed at her lip again, shaking her head. It seemed to strange to think of herself in such a way, but she supposed it to be a fair enough assumption to make.

"Ask him for something else now then," she said, all anger gone from her tone. It was now only filled with the deepest desperation. "Don't you owe me that much?"

"I owe you nothing."

"And yet everything!" Tempest cried out, collapsing on the bed beside her in tears, unable to stop herself from sobbing erratically. There was no disguising her shame as she did so, though her attempts to stop did nothing but provoke more choking gasps. Severus stood still, his wand now lowered and placed in his pocket. He could only wait for her to calm down enough to speak, as she evidently was determined to do.

"Calm yourself," he finally said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You won't find any use in tears."

"I- don't- _care_!"

"_Silence yourself_. I'm sure they can hear you from the hallway-"

"Who cares if they can hear me? I want them to hear me! I want to keep screaming until a single one of them gets their arse down here and gives a damn!" By now Tempest found she was screaming, her voice slightly sore from the words already. She pulled herself to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, doubled over in the agony of the moment. "I'll scream some more, I _swear_ I will! I'll just- I'll just carry on till someone comes and- and I'll- I'll-"

A loud bang sounded as Severus shot a spell towards the wall, and upon being momentarily dazed from her cries, Tempest found herself gripped firmly by the shoulders. She prepared herself to be shaken from her outburst, but was instead kept perfectly still with almost painfully firm hands. The pressure she found on her lips was not passionate. It was not even spiteful. It was almost matter of fact, as if to be placed there simply as a fact for future reference, or even to simply silence her. Either way, she could not quite explain the pressure as anything other than that until long after that night.

The pressure disappeared and moments later, the door closed.

* * *

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

Harry looked up from his hands, halting himself in his nervous fiddling. He paused, staring at Hermione instead as she in turn watched him, waiting for another word.

"You remember the other year? The Dementors?"

"I don't think I could forget, Harry."

"You remember… you remember I saw my dad? Well, I thought I saw my dad."

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking…"

Hermione blinked twice, unsure, before moving towards her friend and sitting beside him. His gaze had returned downwards now and she joined him in this, unable to bring herself to look upwards.

"Is this about Dumbledore?"

"No. I don't think so, at least. I just…"

"Do you think you saw him again? Your dad, that is."

"No. I think I- I think…"

"What?"

"I think I saw my mum."

She found herself quite unsure of what to say, and so Hermione decided it best to say nothing at all. She pondered the idea in her head for a moment, attempting to find some reasoning behind it. At first she supposed it to be easier to figure out when she had the solution to Harry's previous, similar thoughts, but found it almost more perplexing.

"It's a little bit mad, isn't it?"

"I won't say it isn't, Harry. But… it was a rough night. You'd already seen what happened to Dumbledore, maybe you were just imagining things?"

"But she just seemed so real."

"So did your dad, Harry." She thought for a moment. "Where was she, exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you saw your dad casting the Patronous, apparently. What was your mum doing? If it's not too rude to ask."

"It's not." Harry contemplated this before remembering clearly. "She was with the Death Eaters. When they were leaving, someone's cloak slipped a bit. Just looked like her for a moment."

"I don't know what to say, Harry."

"Don't really think there's anything you could say. It just happened."

Hermione nodded, putting her hand on Harry's and squeezing gently. He smiled half heartedly in return, moving his hand and squeezing back. The gesture she had made, though, made no difference. Harry could not help but still be disconcerted by the whole event, and someone holding his hand would not make him feel any different.


	44. Chapter 44

_I could have lost a hand  
You should look where you are going guy  
I could have lost my life  
But I would lose a hundred fights  
-Sorry Bunch, The Dresden Dolls_

With a slight groan and a dazed shift of movement, Tempest opened her eyes, but upon seeing the brightness of the light closed them again, groaning again in a louder, more obvious manner. She heard a light click as the door opened and immediately her body stiffened before she allowed herself to sit up sharply. Severus did not turn to look at her immediately, instead pausing at the doorway.

"I've been told you are to accompany me," he said finally, still not looking towards her.

"Accompany you where?"

"I was not told."

"You kissed me last night."

At hearing this, Severus's eyes flashed upwards, almost burning with malice. He did not make a single gesture towards her, though, nor did he even think once of replying to this comment in particular.

"You are to come back to Hogwarts in September, apparently-"

"You kissed me."

"-apparently Draco will return to school as well, I don't suppose there was a punish-"

"You _kissed_ me.

"-punishment worth giving."

"Why'd you do it if you're not gonna say anything about it?"

"I think it's about time you stop being childish."

Tempest bit her tongue fiercely to stop herself from crying out in anger at this comment, her features instead making up for this with a blatant glare. There was nothing else she could think of to say; she only wanted to repeat herself over and over again.

"But- but you did, you-"

"Stop it," Severus barked, his shoulders tense. The severity of his voice caused Tempest to shrink into herself slightly, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed. "Make yourself useful, won't you? There must be something you can think of other than wallowing here."

He disappeared behind the door, slamming it behind him, at which Tempest uttered a sharp noise of disgust, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at full force towards the door. The entire situation sent her head spinning and she could feel her eyes slightly clouding over with anger. She threw another pillow to the floor as she made her way past the bed and pulled at the curtain draw strings as if to pull them off. It came as a slight surprise to see an array of robes already set out.

Once she had allowed her temper to cool itself to a point where her cheeks no longer flushed, Tempest softly stepped to the door before pausing. She pressed her ear against the wood of the door, listening intently, but heard nothing and so assumed it to be safe. At least, safe enough. With a certain amount of caution that she found almost usual Tempest left the room, looking either side of her in the corridor as she left.

The house was emptier than usual. More often than not the Dark Lord was never present, always disappearing on his own set missions of some sort or another, but his followers would use the house as a sanctuary when not protected by battle. Most had gone now for some reason or another leaving the hallways almost echoing. It was almost liberating to be free enough to walk without fear condemnation by anyone who may have passed.

There came a slight scuffing noise at the end of the corridor as Tempest made her way towards the main entrance hall causing her to stiffen slightly in alarm. She turned sharply when she heard the noise grow louder, letting out a sigh of relief upon doing so.

"Draco," she murmured, finding herself unable to bring much volume to her voice. He smiled half heartedly, walking to her side and placing a hand on hers. It was a listless movement, but one of mild comfort.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few moments of silence.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

She nodded gratefully, pulling her hand aside slightly. It felt strange to hold his hand and she didn't feel much inclined to do it for much longer. They carried on through the hallway until one dared to speak.

"Where is everybody?" Tempest asked quietly, looking down as she did so.

"Azkaban, last thing I heard." This caused Tempest to look up sharply, her eyes wide.

"What do you mean?"

"I think they're breaking in. Someone said it was being planned for a while."

The small smile turned itself into a slight grin at the idea and Tempest found herself elated at the idea.

They did not speak on the subject for the rest of the day, of course, and little was spoken of in the mean time either. It was peaceful rather than awkward and each of them found solace in the silence. Neither of them very much wished to think of those that would return that evening- at least, what they assumed would be that evening- and for once successfully did so, thinking of anything and everything they could that would lead them away from those few hours.

* * *

The Death Eaters had returned in a strange formation that afternoon without the newly released prisoners, it being rumoured that the Dark Lord had ushered them into a room at the far end of the building for some unknown reason. No one quite wanted to think about what was happening, so no one did. They were collected that evening in the main hall, waiting.

Tempest surveyed the room and saw across the hall that Narcissa had been invited to the meeting. She stood behind Draco, her hands gripping her son's shoulders with unnecessary strength, empowered by her agitation. Severus stood to Tempest's left side, his features stony. Though he knew none of the men or women that were to appear very closely, nor did he seem to have any liking towards them, he portrayed the same concern that even the hardest of spirits in that room showed.

The clock had only just struck eleven at night when the doors at last opened and Lord Voldemort entered the room, his eyes burning. He was followed shortly by a gathering of men and women; all were filthy, their hair clouded with grease, their faces dirtied beyond recognition. Some walked with a limp, others looked as if they were clinging to broken wrists or elbows. It was almost horrifying to watch, yet no one could stop themselves. The Dark Lord stopped short of his _throne_ and turned sharply, those eyes burning into not only the returned, but into everyone in that room.

"You are all here because I am _merciful_," he said loudly, his words echoing off the walls. "You left because you were _foolish_. If it happens again, I will not be as kind as to extend my services."

At that moment the room went silent, the echoes disappeared, only to be filled again with the sound of his Disapparation. No one dared for those few minutes that followed. They were indeed minutes- the ticking of the clock reminded them such. It was as if they were frozen. At last, one man among those that had returned broke the crowd, running as fast as he could while gripping his arm towards one of the Death Eaters, wrapping his good arm around her. He nor she cried, but they both ignited the loss between everyone. People began to disperse and Tempest joined in, scanning the room as well as she could.

She found Draco and Narcissa quickly in the same state as her, their eyes wide and panicking. In the grip of her panic, Narcissa's hand stretched out and grabbed hold of Tempest's elbow, and in her own earnest Tempest placed her own hand on the woman's, their fear forcing them to forget.

"Dad!" The two women looked sharply towards Draco, the first of them to finally call out. "Dad!"

"Lucius!" Narcissa shouted, finally given the courage to call out as well. "Lucius! We're over here!"

They looked frantically, craning their necks for a closer look. Finally, a flash of now dusty white appeared in the crowd. Tempest uttered a sharp yelp and ran forward, her arm slipping away from Narcissa's. The Malfoys followed quickly as Tempest ran on, her elbows edged outwards in her defence before she reached her goal.

"Lucius!" she shouted, seeing the man turn sharply upon hearing her voice as she flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. Lucius felt almost delirious in that moment as he felt his son mimic the action, embracing him in a way that had been forbidden before. Before he could halt the action with any sense of false dignity he found his arms wrapped around the figures by him using a strength that he did not know he had. He looked upwards to see Narcissa there, frozen in a strange position as if she had stopped midway through her movements. Her hand fell limply to her side upon the meeting of their eyes and Lucius felt his arms grow slightly weaker at the sight of her. Both Tempest and Draco noticed this and retreated slightly.

Draco pulled at Tempest's sleeve lightly and dragged her out of Lucius's path, leaving his hand on her arm once she had moved. There was a pause in which no one was quite sure whether or not anyone would move, whether they would simply stand there for the remainder of the night.

In a quick burst of desperation, Lucius seemed to lunge forward as he wrapped his arms around Narcissa, pressing his lips against her forehead . She returned the action, pulling her husband towards her as her cheek rested on his shoulder, her head turned away from the two children watching on with their only words choked in their throats.


	45. Chapter 45

_Pretty girl is suffering  
__While he confesses everything.  
__Soon enough she'll figure out  
__You can never get him out of your head  
__-Pretty Girl, Sugarcult_

Tempest had spent each night still in that same bedroom with the same fear and loathing that had consumed her that very first. Both she and Severus had been forced to remain in the house for the foreseeable future; his original home was far too open to be considered safe. It was likely that the Order had already raided the house, just in case there was anything useful. Of course, there wasn't, as Tempest knew very well, and the very idea of being helpless drove her practically mad.

"Can they protect it or something?" Tempest hissed one night before Severus left. He had been forced to remain in her bedroom for an hour at the very least to halt any suspicions that he was not abusing his gift. He did not seem surprised at having finally been asked this question and took it in his stride.

"I suppose they could if they wished to but why attempt it when we have room here?"

"Because this is a _horrible_ place, Severus. I want to leave."

"And if you remember correctly, you have no say in the matter."

"You don't want to go back? I thought you of all people would hate this place as much as I do, it's filled with so many maniacs I can barely stand it!"

"Unfortunately, I find myself in that position anyway. I don't see why you must be any different."

Despite herself, Tempest smiled, but thought quickly in some determination to maintain her point. Her hatred had grown to a point over the many weeks that she doubted she'd make it much longer without screaming.

"What about if you made up some kind of problem?"

"Don't be silly."

"No, seriously, if it was only really small. You'd heard about someone trying to develop a curse or someone who was just sneezing a little suspiciously or-"

"Tempest," Severus said firmly. "I'm afraid it doesn't matter what you say, you will have to wait until we return to Hogwarts."

"And what fun that'll be, I bet. But really, it's simply so boring!"

"I'm sure you can come up with a good variety of words for it by the morning." With a smirk, Severus turned to leave the room, the time having come where he found there to be no issue in leaving.

"You can't leave me now! It's only early and I'm sure I'll actually hang myself if I get fed up enough."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Try me."

With a pause that indicated nothing than mild disconcertment, Severus stepped forward again and sat at the edge of the bed further from her. He suspected he would not be given the permission that he did not require to leave for quite some time and supposed it would be easier to leave if he attempted some form of amiability.

"I don't know what you expect me to say," he said after a short silence.

"Anything. I just want the company."

"I'm sure you are able to gain other company."

"Even I'm not that stupid, no one's _allowed_ to talk to me."

"Perhaps you need a cat."

She laughed, unsure whether or not it was a joke. They spoke for a while longer, though their opinions on the while's length was subject to their own thoughts. It was in this time that Tempest noted Severus's ease, as if the melancholy that had surrounded him since Dumbledore's death was slowly melting away. Not entirely, of course, but slightly.

Finally she grew tired enough to lay her head on her pillow in her fatigue, her speech becoming slightly more slurred as sleep drew over her. She nodded lazily as Severus spoke, though she ended up doing so when silence reigned and she simply pretended that conversation still took place. There was a period of time where this continued before she became vaguely aware of a sheet being pulled over her body and the slightest trace of fingertips against her neck as the hands pulling the sheet departed.

The feeling was so vague that by morning she had utterly forgotten it.


	46. Chapter 46

_Our love had been so strong for far too long  
__I was weak with fear that  
__Something would go wrong  
__- A Little Piece of Heaven, Avenged Sevenfold_

"What happened?"

Severus looked up from his desk which he had found himself hunched over for some time to see Tempest in the doorway. It was late evening and she had recently changed into her night robe. He was not exactly perturbed by the sight, but it was somewhat strange to see nonetheless. She had, as of late, been more careful with her actions and attire in light of the Dark Lord's action. He turned back to his desk, his hands gripping each other tightly.

"Nothing for you to be concerned with."

"I'll find out sooner or later."

"Then make it later."

She did not argue and only moved forward to pull out a chair near the door. Her toes wriggled stiffly to keep warm on the bitterly cold floor, her teeth chattered silently behind firmly pressed lips. Though the silence was almost murderous, Tempest could not summon a question to mind to ease the tension without creating an unnecessary amount in the process. Fortunately, she was not forced into the situation.

"Professor Burbage," Severus said finally in a quiet yet composed voice. "Charity… Burbage. A professor in Hogwarts."

"Is she dead?"

"Yes." Tempest bit her lip, the cold no longer affecting her upon hearing the news.

"How did Draco take it?"

"I shouldn't think so. I can't say I was inclined to watch his reaction on your behalf."

"You made a vow to protect him, Severus."

"Under circumstances where I was forced to do so for my own safety as well as his. It was simply saving my own skin."

"But you still did it. You should still be thinking of him."

"It amazes me that you will think of Draco at a time like this and not ask what is to become of your brother."

"I had assumed that there would be no other plan other than to kill him. Details don't appeal to me."

"You have nothing to fear."

"Of course I don't. I never thought I would."

Severus stood up and watched Tempest for a moment, wondering briefly why she was so determined to sit in such a stiffly indifferent manner when her feet so obviously shivered and her eyes were bright with some hidden idea or thought.

"Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"Shouldn't you?" Tempest replied almost bitterly. Her features softened slightly as her eyes cast over Severus's face rather than burning into his eyes as they were before. "You do look tired."

"I can't say much better for you."

Tempest rubbed at her eyes, suddenly very aware that she was indeed tired, and stretched out her arms. There was no use in trying to oppose the idea of her fatigue and so she resigned herself to rising from the seat and stumbling towards the doorway.

"Did she see you?"

"Who?"

"Professor Burbage."

Severus stood slightly stiffer than usual at this point, his fists briefly clenching.

"Yes. Saw, and recognised."

"I'm sorry."

He placed a hand on Tempest's shoulder, fingers bent in an awkward way to imply a lack of desire for the contact yet a compulsion to do so. She was unable to look up anymore through a mixture of tiredness and guilt. The contact allowed a limp smile to appear as she brushed the hand away, turning and leaving the room for the night.

* * *

There was such a commotion as had never been seen before in Tempest's seventeen years. People Disapparated almost within moments of each other, some laughing in triumph, some with a quiet dignity that edged on lunacy. Silence was apparent enough to cause echoes, but the sounds were almost deafening. Tempest ran through the ground floor rooms and corridors, her hands brushing the surfaces she could find in case her eye sight decided to fail her in the excitement. Her hand finally came into contact with Severus's arm, at which point he grabbed hold of her wrist and they Disapparated.

"What's happened?" she asked weakly as her spare arm pressed itself against her stomach firmly; even by this point she'd never been quite used to the after effects of Apparation.

"The Ministry's been attacked," Severus replied, passing his wand across his face to bring forward a mask. Tempest quickly did the same as she followed him forward through the field they had come to. It was loud- screams were bursting from what could only be described as a tent in the distance. "The Minister has been killed and control is His."

Tempest nodded shakily, now running to keep up with the long strides. Entering the tent was like entering a wreckage of some sorts. People were screaming, some were trying to run away but being held back or held at the point of a wand by the Death Eaters. She pulled out her wand from her sleeve sharply and pointed it towards the crowd, at least attempting the part if she could not bring herself to do anything.

In the dark it was hard enough to see anyone in particular, but Tempest was quite sure she saw a flash of red go by as a figure ran across her path. _Molly_. She watched as Molly Weasley found her husband, all the while being followed by Greyback whose blood lust was already evident. Tempest ran forward, her wand held poised, and grabbed hold of Fenrir's arm. He growled from his throat and looked towards her, but seeing that she was masked softened his stance slightly- not by much, but enough.

"I'll take these two," she hissed, gesturing for him to leave. He did so grudgingly, baring his teeth as he did so and letting a low growl when he moved on. Tempest stared behind her shoulder until he had disappeared into the crowd. She turned her head again sharply towards the Weasleys who seemed reluctant to look up towards her. It was quite certain that they still had no clue who she was. _Good_.

"Where's Ron?" Molly suddenly shouted erratically, looking about her and clinging onto Arthur. "Where did he go? He was- he was right there, Arthur!"

"He's not in here, maybe he got away- I can't see any of them, the three've just disappeared."

A loud noise sounded in the area as a vase flew past Tempest's ear and hit the small table beside the Weasleys. She found herself accompanied by one of the Carrow siblings- she was still not sure which, they both looked so similar- who immediately raised their own wand in some sort of threatening manner which was distilled by the slightly over-the-top excitement in his- or hers- eyes.

"Go on," Carrow urged, hand twitching in anticipation. "Finish 'em off."

"No," Tempest said in return, placing a hand on Carrow's wand arm and lowering it. "They're pure bloods."

"They're _blood traitors_!"

"But pure bloods. We don't deal with blood traitors now."

Carrow let out a sharp cry of anger as they moved onwards, eyes shining for any familiar faces determined to be less than pure blood. She looked back again towards the Weasleys who stood before her with a mixture of anger and fear in their expressions, the latter barely noticeable. The burning of their eyes was almost unbearable for a moment; a moment in which Tempest lowered her wand slightly. She gathered herself and pointed the wand to the side, gesturing for them to move.

"Go," she ordered briefly, gesturing again. The two hesitated. "Go!"

Without a moment more of persuasion needed they ran, Arthur holding onto his wife protectively as they did so. They disappeared into the crowds, consumed by the frightened guests. In amongst the sounds of people screaming and the heavy footsteps against the ground, a loud bang was sounded as a spell tore a hole in the roof of the tent they were in. The sounds died down, and everyone paused, frozen, staring towards the centre.

Bellatrix's wand arm was still raised in the air, her eyes burning as she looked around the room. She slowly lowered her hand, still gripping onto her wand, prepared to strike. She smiled then, bearing her teeth. Even Tempest found herself somewhat scared of her in that moment.

"I'm only going to ask this _once_," she said quietly, sweetly. "Where is Potter?"

The words rung clear in everyone's ears, but no one could find an answer. A few hopefuls looked around, hoping to find him in the crowd, hoping that they could turn him in for their safety. The minority with this glance in their eyes made Tempest wrinkle her nose, disgusted. _How pathetic_. No one could see him, though, and so no one spoke. Bellatrix's teeth were still bared, though she frowned now, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Where is he?" she screeched suddenly, throwing a curse across the room which was quickly dodged by the guests. "Tell me!"

"He's not here," called out one voice. Arthur. Everyone's necks craned to take a look towards the one person who dared to speak, all of them surprised. Arthur stepped forward, letting go of his wife for that moment. "He wasn't invited."

"You're lying," Bellatrix said lowly, no longer feigning a smile, no longer even forcing a frown. She pointed her wand towards him, walking forward. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Ask anyone here; no one's seen him."

"Is this right?" she asked, turning around full circle to see the responses. "Has anyone seen Potter?"

Again, there was no response. Bellatrix paused before giving in, lowering her wand.

"Mark my word, Weasley," Bellatrix said slowly, turning again to Arthur. "If I find out that he was here, there won't be a single one of you living by the end of the day."

With a crack, Bellatrix disappeared, followed shortly by the other Death Eaters who wasted no time in leaving. Tempest surveyed the room one last time before following suit, unable to find Severus among the crowd and unwilling to face the guests by herself. Splinching was a preferable fate and one she expected to confront upon Apparating herself. She checked herself over quickly when she arrived back in the mansion and found herself in one piece, though still somewhat shaken. There was no reason to be, of course; no one knew who she was there, no one cared for her any differently than they did the other Death Eaters, and there were no repercussions for allowing the Weasleys to walk free that evening.

But now Harry was missing. Whether it was good news or not was beside her, but it meant something was happening. And anything at this point in time was disastrous.


	47. Chapter 47

_The one thing I can count on  
__Is nothing much at all  
__-My Fairweather Friend, Emilie Autumn_

Though she was left in the comfort of the new headmaster's office, Tempest stared at the large clock on the wall, knowing very well that a search of the school train was over and done with, and only moments were left to go before that train would station itself in Hogsmeade any moment now. It was useless to have searched the train in the first place. She knew what they were looking for, and they wouldn't find it. There was no doubt in Severus's mind either that Harry Potter had left the festivities of the Weasley party early that night and did not plan on returning to Hogwarts that year. The search was futile, but with no other option but to allow it to happen, she did.

Severus was already pacing the floor, casting his eyes towards the clock every so often.

"I don't see what you're waiting for," Tempest said quietly. "They'll be here any minute now, you know that."

"That is the least of my problems currently," he replied, tense. "The staff members _know_ what happened last year- I expect your brother told them- and the very last thing I need to begin the year with is a revolution of any sort. Heads will roll if they do."

"What exactly can you do to stop it? You don't have to worry. I can't think of a single one of this lot who'd stand up to the _Dark Lord's _accomplice without Harry by their side."

"An allegiance with Dumbledore far outweighs that."

"Maybe later. But not now."

The words did not settle him, but upon hearing the clock strike a quarter to the hour, he had no choice but to grab hold of his cloak and leave the office, Tempest following in quick pursuit, The rest of the staff had seemed to already taken their positions throughout the school as the halls were empty, creating an unnerving feel that she assumed would carry itself through the rest of the year. She was also quite sure by this point that none of them knew who she was, and it only took the smallest amount of common sense to see that they would realise within moments. It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything.

The Great Hall had been altered slightly since Tempest had last had the chance to pass her eyes over it, however briefly she had. The first thing she noticed was the accommodations that had been made to better fit the new arrivals from the Death Eaters that would be taking part in the teaching of the students. The Carrows had already taken their place beside a stout looking woman who Tempest recognised to be Professor Sprout from the few times she had looked out at the gardens that previous year. Most of the professors that had worked within the school previously seemed uneasy, some refusing to look anywhere but straight before them, waiting for students to come flooding through the Main Entrance.

They were, of course, soon appeased in this wish.

Students entered in dribs and drabs, taking their places at their tables. The majority of those who sat at the Slytherin table looked unnervingly happy with themselves while all others avoided looking at each other or the front table. It was unnerving to watch the difference in their reactions, but as there was little to nothing that could be done about it, Tempest remained silent and staring. An awkward silence settled over the hall for a period of a minutes before small mutterings began to create a chorus of noise based on doubts. Some looked up towards the front table that held the staff members and out of the corner of her eye, Tempest could see Severus tense.

"They won't dare to do anything," she whispered as discreetly as she could. His shoulders relaxed slightly at the realisation of his paranoia and the two become quickly adapted to the uncomfortable murmurs.

The time was likely to have passed by quickly had it not been for the manner in which those in the hall that evening, but when eventually the doors opened again and the crowd of first years entered the hall. It was strange and almost… horrifying to see their faces. Tempest had expected excitement from most of them, a slight twinge of fear in their eyes. Yes, there was at least the slightest twinge of fear in their eyes now. It was in their eyes, in their small smiles, in the way they fiddled with their hands, in the way that they tripped over their feet as they made their way down the room towards the Sorting Hat that sat on its stool.

It was a guilty shame in Tempest's mind that though the children looked so frightened and she felt so horrified, she could not help but allow herself to lean forward in anticipation of viewing her first Sorting Ceremony, however morbid the whole affair would be. The first child to be brought up to the hat looked disturbingly nervous, her whole body shaking. Tempest could see through the corner of her eye as a stranger to her, but no doubt a Death Eater, surveyed the Sorting while looking through a list of students names. As this first girl came up, he started to shake his head, writing down something on the parchment. The hat was placed on the girl's head and took a few moments before shouting out 'HUFFLEPUFF'.

A roar of defiant cheer sounded from one of the tables, two others clapping politely. The last one gave out a chorus of hisses and jeers. The girl hurried away from her place towards the loudest table, her cheeks blushing violently. When she reached the table, an elder boy gave her an encouraging smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

The variation in reactions towards the Sorting was certainly more than what Tempest had expected. The majority of those Sorted into Hufflepuff were greeted with the same response as that first young girl while those Sorted into Slytherin were greeted with a cheer from certain members of the staff table and distasteful looks from other students. The man still stayed scribbling his notes as each student appeared at the front, his approval high for some and almost deadly for others. From what Tempest could gather, it might very well be.

Once the Sorting had finished and the students had settled themselves in an uneasy manner, Professor McGonagall looked out towards the tables, her lips pursed. She paused in thought, allowing the silence to settle itself to a point where she could hear her own thoughts.

"Welcome," she began curtly, "to another year at Hogwarts. I'm sure those of you who are returning for another year have noticed… a change… in the staff. To guide you through them is our new Headmaster, Professor Snape."

She stepped back quickly towards her place at the table as Severus rose from his own, causing another quick sound of mutterings. The severity in his stare stopped the sound and once again they were left in silence.

"I have only one thing I can say considering this year at Hogwarts," he said eventually. "Obedience is key."

And that was it.

There was no need to say anything else and so Severus had not found the inclination to. The feast began as he took his place again at the table. Generally, the sound about the hall was more joyous than before, with children talking about their summers where it was pleasant to do so and others talking about what lessons they were to learn- again, where it was pleasant. The staff table was divided in its own way; the Death Eaters were animated in their speech, though somewhat bitter towards those around them. The original Hogwarts staff members were oddly quiet, looking at each other once in a while and then looking away guiltily as if they had broken a rule of sorts.

This continued throughout the entire feast, unchanging. It seemed unlikely to change at all throughout the year, which Tempest most certainly could not abide by. She was quite sure that she would be driven mad by the awkward nature of the hall during meals was bad enough for one night, let alone months and months, a few times a day. She was unable to tell how Severus had reacted to the meal while she sat there that evening, and he was even more unfathomable when the students had left the hall to their dormitories and they had returned to the Headmaster's office.

"I'm sure that could have gone better," Tempest said lightly, dropping her cloak on a nearby chair. "But I told you, they won't fight back, and they didn't. Not even verbally."

"Not loudly, perhaps," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And the moment it gets loud, you can worry." She watched Severus warily for a moment, unsure of what he was thinking. "Why does this bother you so much?"

Severus looked up questioningly.

"This whole revolution idea. What's it all about? You've never been one for paranoia, I'd thought you quite level headed for a man in your position."

"Then you were obviously very foolish," Severus said, though there was a slight curl to his lips that disappeared quickly enough. "In any case, I would prefer you not to make my thoughts your business."

"I must if you disallow me so many of them."

"You make it sound unusual. Would you allow someone so freely into _your_ thoughts?"

"You've seen enough of them. It would be only fair."

"Ignore the idea of fair, it won't do you any good."

"If you insist," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Go to bed, you look positively shattered."

To her surprise, he did not argue back and simply shook his head as if in disbelief before exiting the room, not exactly inclined to continue the conversation any longer that evening. Tempest sat waiting a few moments longer before leaning back into the chair she was in, not sure what to do other than look about the room in a tired manner. Her eyes paused thoughtfully towards the corner of the room where there was a platform on which stood a stone basin that she recognised immediately. A quick idea passed through her head, though uncertainty threatened to send it out almost as quickly.

Had the memories been changed lately? She was quite sure that she had seen Severus by it a few times when they had arrived again at Hogwarts, but it was almost impossible to think of the idea that whatever was there now was of interest to her. Tempest watched it for a moment, as if expecting it to move or reveal memories to her all by itself, but when seeing it remained quite still for a few minutes, she relaxed again into the chair, closing her eyes. Memories could wait for another day.


	48. Chapter 48

_Free me  
__Before I slip away  
__Somebody help me  
__-Somebody Help Me, Full Blown Rose_

"What are you doing?"

Tempest looked up blankly for a moment before returning to her business.

"Practising," she said. "You don't know how fun it is setting stuff on fire and putting it out is until you try it for hours on end."

Severus arched an eyebrow, but brought out his wand and pointed it towards the small table by the window. In a flash of light the table set alight with a controlled flame. Tempest smiled and pointed her own wand towards the table. When it did not extinguish immediately, she bit her lip and sighed irritably.

"I was sure I'd managed to get hold of non verbal spells with this thing."

"Practise on something that won't set the school on fire, if you will."

"_Aguamenti_." A shot of water sprayed across the room and put out the fire in moments.

"Perhaps I'll have to teach you a tidier way of doing that in the future. A flood wouldn't help the school in any way either."

"Then I'll make sure you teach me." Severus rolled his eyes as he took hold of his and Tempest's cloak, then throwing hers towards her. "We have to go out?"

"Duelling club's been moved out onto the Quidditch field," he replied. "The Carrows wanted a little bit more room to practise. This way there's no excuse for anyone skipping class."

"Why do we have to be there?"

"Because _I_ have to be there."

Tempest paused as she stared at what used to be a ball of paper but had now been reduced to crumbling ash, clinging onto fire. After a few moments, it finally extinguished.

"Even the first and second years? Don't they have an excuse?"

"The Dark Lord wishes for each and every student to prove their worth. This is just one of the ways they can do it."

"He can't have much use for children, they wouldn't be able to do anything in a war."

"Maybe not on the Order's command but He doesn't have those issues."

"It isn't just a matter of morale, it's a matter of intelligence."

"The two go hand in hand."

Throwing a last lit piece of paper at the floor, allowing it to extinguish naturally, Tempest stood up, twirling her wand between her fingers. It wasn't the first session of duelling that had taken place in the school under the Carrows' watchful eyes, but they hadn't been so determined before to have a school wide session. It was ingenious in some ways. Horrible, but ingenious. What better way to gain command than tackling all birds with one stone?

It was cold outside, to say the least. The wind was settled but the temperature had dropped to a level that was unfortunately common in those days. Students were rushing past as they realised the hour, obviously scared of the consequences. Every once in a while when a second or first year would go by, assured that they were on time or exemplary from the punishment that would befall them, Severus would bark a quick command and they would begin to run hurriedly. There was barely a noise coming from the Quidditch pitch which had, until this night, been practically useless with the abolishment of the sport.

Being only spectators of the session, the two took their positions in the stands, overseeing whatever would happen that evening. Tempest could only thank Merlin that it was slightly warmer at these heights than it was down on the grounds. Down below, the students looked about in a confused manner, each knowing what their business was but having no clue in how to fulfil it or why it was there in the first place. The Carrows were nowhere in sight at that moment in time; even Severus became noticeably anxious, his eyes passing over the grounds frequently in search of them, or anyone else who may take the class. As students began to notice that they were being watched, they looked up towards the stands every so often.

"I hadn't thought them the type for dramatic entrances," Tempest said aloud.

"Fearful flair, I suppose."

She nodded, still watching the grounds. Most students had scattered by this point, still on the grounds but instead separating themselves into smaller groups. Minutes after they had spoken, a flash of light flooded the Quidditch pitch as a red beam was thrown into one of the groups, sending a sixth year flying backwards. All were suddenly hushed as the sound had broken their conversations.

"Get up!" Amycus screeched, stepping onto the field. "Get up and fight back!"

The boy that had been hit scrambled to his feet, fumbling in his pocket for his wand. He only managed to touch his wand before another curse was sent his way and the boy was left writhing on the floor with the aftershock of said curse. Tempest had stiffened slightly while watching and was unaware of Severus staring at her cautiously.

"Don't watch," he said after a few moments when the boy had attempted to throw a curse and failed miserably.

"I'm okay," Tempest replied, clearing her throat which had grown hoarse. "It's just a bit… you know."

Amycus concentrated on that one boy until finally a seventh year boy stepped forward. He looked uneasy and afraid, but it did not stop him from speaking out.

"Oi," he called out, raising his wand. "Pick on someone else for a change."

"You'll be learning first how we deal with half bloods," Amycus snapped, his teeth bared. "I'll be tackling your blood traitor lot later."

"Or how about you actually _teach_ us something?"

"Longbottom," Severus said. Tempest jumped at the noise and saw that his wand was pressed to his throat, amplifying his voice to the point where it echoed across the field. The students looked up towards the stand again, all curious, most angered. "I will remind you to hold your tongue when in the presence of a teacher."

The boy looked ready to speak but stepped backwards towards his small group again where his head remained bowed, though his body was stiff as if the retreat were the very last thing he had wished to do. Severus lowered his wand again, surveying the field as the 'lesson' continued.

"I'd thought him too cowardly to speak out," Severus murmured under his breath, setting his teeth. "I should hope he doesn't make a habit of it."

"I'm sure he will."

As time went by and Amycus grew tired of crippling what was left of the sixth year boy and eventually ordered spells to be cast in any direction at any time.

"There's no way to teach you how to improve your aim," he called out to the students, laughing as he did so. "The only way is to practise yourselves."

The grounds were lit up as curses were shot first by a handful of Slytherins who had taken it upon themselves to begin whatever battle they had prepared for that evening. Cries of pain echoed as children were sent to the ground as the spells hit them, and soon enough groups that had before been so large in number divided, a maximum of four students gripping to each other as they either protected themselves with pitiful Shielding Charms or threw minor spells in attempts to protect without harming. It seemed as if the battle would not end until Severus had finally taken what seemed reluctant mercy on the students, rising from his seat again and pressing his wand against his throat.

"Professor Carrow," he said severely. The curses suddenly stopped, though the low moans from younger students refused to halt. "I will remind you that the student curfew is in five minutes. I will not tolerate rule breaking so early in our year."

Amycus pulled a disgusted face and turned towards what now appeared to be a battlefield.

"You heard the headmaster," he screeched, waving his arm as if to direct them away. "Back to your dormitories."

In huddles far more pathetic and straggled than when they entered the Quidditch pitch, the students walked away and trailed towards the castle. It was a pitiful sight to see; Tempest averted her eyes eventually, unable to look on.

"You couldn't have stopped it sooner?" she mumbled under her breath.

"I'd thought you more resilient to this sort of sight," Severus replied, neither curious nor concerned apparently.

"Not when it's kids. They were so little, Severus, half of them have barely learnt enough to get by in a friendly duel."

"Come," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, almost pressing down with unneeded pressure. "We must return to the castle."

Tempest looked up sharply, suddenly bitter.

"I won't cry, you know. You don't need to speak to me like I'm a child."

"And you needn't be so petulant," Severus replied curtly, his hand still on her shoulder. Unable to gather the inclination for an argument, Tempest nodded and followed him down the steps and towards the now almost invisible castle, hidden by the swarm of students and the high lying fog that was slowly descending upon them.

It was unclear how many pairs of eyes settled upon the two as they walked as confidently as they were allowed through the Hall towards the headmaster's office. Tempest's eyes remained cast towards the floor, an embarrassment creeping over her that she was not used to and that she found disturbingly disconcerting. Within minutes, the hallways were empty and not a soul could be seen. Even the portraits had taken to avoiding them by this early point in the year.

There was a cold chill in the office that was barely cured by the blaze that Severus set in the fireplace upon entering. The evening's events finally settled in Tempest's mind and she found herself shivering slightly from it, her eyes suddenly staring out vacantly and her mind racing. She was not aware as Severus caught her arm and led her to a seat. He stood before her and held up her chin in his hand, seeing she would not do so by her own command.

"Try and concentrate," he murmured, drawing his wand and placing the tip lightly at Tempest's temple. At that point she found herself unable to do anything but concentrate and suddenly felt a strange coolness flood through her as Severus drew the wand away, dragging a silvery strand as he did so. Tempest blinked a few times and gathered herself as Severus took the memory away and placed it in a small glass vial.

"I thought you weren't able to do that," she said weakly.

"Your mind was more open than you thought for a short while," Severus replied. "Open enough for me to access it, at least."

"But, doesn't that mean that- but what if-"

"I wouldn't flatter yourself in such a way. The Dark Lord has interests higher than you now."

Tempest nodded, smiling slightly.

"Why'd you do that anyway?"

"You'll want to remember tonight at some point. For some reason or another, at least."

"I don't think I will," Tempest said quickly. "Just break the vial or something."

"I'm hardly likely to waste a memory away like that."

"But it was awful, absolutely awful, and I don't want to…" She trailed off, thinking back a bit. Her eyes quickly sharpened and looked up towards Severus, lit with a new determination. "Show me one of yours."

"Perhaps you've forgotten the reason one practises Occlumency."

"You got to take away one of mine, isn't it only right I get to see one of yours? Just the one? You don't tell me anything that doesn't affect me directly, it's really about time you showed me _something_."

"Do you not remember that I took measures in ensuring that you especially would not access my memories?"

"Please? I just want to hear about something that isn't so awful and you're the only person who would be able to give me anything like that."

"What suddenly made you so interested?"

"Not being interested," Tempest said quietly, shrugging. "I don't want to hear much about you, if it makes you feel any better? But at some point I'm gonna want to know about Harry, maybe, or my parents. I don't want to pass up that sort of chance while I can."

"And you think this a chance?"

"You're so sincere about me being affected, a memory or something might make me forget."

Severus wavered, slightly stunned by the blunt response he received before recovering himself. He stared as severely as he could at Tempest, caving quickly to the returned glare and making his way to the cabinet that lay behind the Pensieve. Tempest grinned to herself as she followed him, looking over the man's shoulder as his fingers deftly pushed aside small vials until he found the one he seemed to have had in his mind all along. It was not labelled in any particular way- then again, none of them seemed to be.

"If it satisfies your incessant needs," he said as he poured the silver mist into the magical basin.

"It will," Tempest assured, her eyes glittering as they reflected the light. She looked towards Severus briefly, waiting for him to gesture her forward. He did so reluctantly and before she knew what had happened, Tempest found herself falling into that memory that had been presented to her.

It was loud. Extremely loud. Though not unpleasant. At first the sound of screams and shrieks startled Tempest from her previous happiness, though the screams melted into laughter and the shrieks formed words and number indicating some form of childhood game. A park. A Muggle park, at that.

"Why'd we have to come here?" a small voice said from a direction not too far from Tempest's waist. She looked down to see a small, dark haired little boy with a sour look on his face. "You told me this'd be fun."

"It is fun, Sev!" a little girl laughed from Tempest's other side. Familiar auburn locks bounced around the girl's shoulders as she skipped forward, giggling. "Come on, don't be a _spoil sport_!"

"I'm not a spoil sport!" young Severus said loudly, a small smile appearing on his lips. "I'm way more fun than you anyway."

"Yeah right!"

"Yeah! I'm the one who can do the trick with ladybirds, remember?"

"Don't remind me," young Lily replied, shuddering. "Anyway, that'll be work in a couple of years, won't it, Sev? I'm amazing at games, you're no way near as fun as I am!"

"I am too!"

"Nope! Bet our kids would find you so _boring_," Lily said, extending the last word childishly. Severus's small smile became greedier, his eyes lighting up. It was obvious Lily was joking from the way that she laughed when she said it, but he wanted to carry it on further. Tempest took up a quick walking pace to keep up with the two children, eager.

"Bet they wouldn't," Severus said, slightly out of breath with anticipation. "Little Malvolio's gonna think I'm the best dad in the world."

"_Malvolio_? I'm not naming my son _Malvolio_."

"Fine, you come up with something better."

"I like Tom better."

"That's boring!"

"Nuh-uh, it's alright. Fine then, Mark."

"No way. Phineus."

"Ew! John."

"Stupid. Scorpius."

"That's a star sign, Sev!"

"No, that's Scorpi_o_, not Scorpi_us_."

"Either way, it's stupid. Anyway, I'm not gonna get shouldered with a load of runny nosed boys, I'm gonna have my own little Mary as well."

"No, she's gonna be called Tzipporah!"

"What about Jane then?"

"Still boring, Lily. Tempest."

Lily opened her mouth to speak, then paused, a finger to her lips. She then smiled largely, nodding.

"Fine. But I get to call the other one something nice and dull."

"Deal."

As if to seal the deal, Severus poked his tongue out as his companion, who in turn threw a handful of torn grass at him. The game carried on for a few minutes as Tempest watched, shaking her head. It was a strange enough sight to see her own mother at such an age, but even strange to see Severus act in such a way. She'd seen him for so long as a man it was almost impossible to think of him as a child. It was naive, but true.

A sudden surge of movement pulled Tempest from this scene and she found herself returned to the office. Her eyes slowly focused on the scene before she smiled lightly, not concentrating on anything in particular.

"Is that all?" Severus asked in a bored tone.

"Yeah," Tempest replied, nodding. "Yeah, that's all."


	49. Chapter 49

_Maybe we're victims of fate  
__Remember when we'd celebrate  
__-Protect Me From What I Want, Placebo_

Harry, still shivering from the cold as he pulled on his socks, was barely aware of Ron still sitting on the ground, staring into space as he held the now destroyed Horcrux in his hand. He heard a sharp crack in the distance as someone stepped on a twig; the silence that followed was what concerned him more than anything, as this person obviously did not wish to be heard.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, looking around. Ron tilted his head up as if to listen, then shook his head. "Are you sure? I swear, I heard…"

"Could've been anything, Harry."

"I guess." The thought slowly started to leave his mind as he yanked a soggy shoe onto his foot until another sound echoed through his ears. Another step. It seemed that Ron had noticed it this time, but he was reluctant to say anything.

"You heard it that time," Harry said, alert.

"'S not like anyone's gonna find us," Ron said nervously. "Hermione set up that spell, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Let's just get back."

Momentarily, Harry considered this, thinking it the best option. It was the third crack of a snapping twig that set his body to action, forcing him forward until he found himself running towards the noise.

"Harry!" Ron hissed as his friend disappeared into the trees.

He wouldn't listen. He was sure he had seen a figure in the distance now and needed to see who it was. If it was a danger to him, then they would not see him. He was protected by the spell. But if it was an ally… that was what they needed. Harry had spent too long without the information of how others back home were doing. He needed to know something. As he gathered speed Harry noticed the figure clearer now, looking around as they heard the noise approaching. Finally the figure's face turned towards Harry, at which point he stopped in his tracks. It was too late, though. Before he could see who it was, the person had already caught onto the idea that they were being watched and ran.

_It's too late to turn back_, Harry decided before following the figure. He became certain of a few things as he followed this stranger. Firstly, this was a girl. It was no one he recognised, which somehow sparked the idea that this may be a girl escaping the Ministry. There were few within the Death Eater's circle who Voldemort would employ to find Harry and he could recognise those few in an instant. The second thing that he was certain of was that she was only as scared as he was. He was merely curious at that moment in time, and she had seemed nothing more than irritated, running with an air that displayed no fear.

There was only one other thing that he was sure of, and that was that there was something similar about her that created the idea that he had seen her before.

The girl made a sharp turn that left Harry wondering for a moment where he was before he noticed her stop short a small distance away. She seemed confused, lost maybe. But before Harry could take another step forward, she dropped to her knees and rifled through the snow that had laid itself on the ground until she found an object that Harry could not see and disappeared.

"Harry!" Harry turned around upon hearing his name and saw that Ron had followed him and was now somewhat out of breath. "What the bloody hell d'you think you're doing?" Ron straightened up and focused on Harry, his brow furrowing. "Blimey, Harry, you look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"I think I might have." With no particular inclination to do so, Ron did not delve further into the statement but pulled what seemed to be a sympathetic expression before grabbing hold of his friend's shoulder.

"C'mon, mate, I bet Hermione's wondering what's happened to you."

Harry nodded, still bemused. He placed a hand to his head, almost trying to keep his thoughts in his mind. They had been searching for months now. He could count the amount of hours he had slept that week using his fingers. He had lost count of the number of times he had suffered from nightmares or half-daydreams in that time. What use was there in worrying over something that might very well have been as big a deal as all that?

* * *

"I told you you were not to be seen, Tempest."

"I can't help it if he heard me."

"And most probably saw you."

Tempest held her breath, watching Severus pace rapidly.

"I heard him too, you know. He was constantly behind me. He didn't see me."

"And you're so very sure of that," Severus asked mockingly. "I told you to come back immediately after you saw him find the sword. That was your task and nothing more."

"Don't I have the right to ensure he doesn't drown?" Tempest spat. "You can allow me that much without it being a sin, Severus."

"I should not have allowed you out at all."

"Stop worrying! Even if he did see me it won't matter. He isn't exactly going to stop whatever it is he's doing just because he saw someone who vaguely represented his mother."

"You're trying my patience," Severus muttered through clenched teeth.

"I haven't even _done_ anything."

In a surprising display of his anger, Severus threw the nearest chair to the ground. The loud noise made Tempest sit down immediately, obediently, her throat closing any formed words from escaping and her eyes wide without a trace of fear but filled with a deep sincerity.

"I'm sorry," she choked. "It won't happen again."

He quickly gathered himself and straightened slightly, staring downwards with his hands clenched. They remained silent for a few moments as each attempted in their best ways to calm themselves. Slowly, Severus's patience with the situation grew weak before he finally gave in and gestured loosely with his hand, indicating that he had given up on the scene, and walked up towards his room. Tempest watched him do so and scowled when his door had slammed itself shut.

* * *

It was mere weeks later that Tempest found herself summoned to the dungeons. No one had quite expected it at first, but it seemed entirely logical later on in the year that Voldemort would wish to ensure that the students of Hogwarts- or at least, those that remained- were being taught in the appropriate manner. Having been curiously caught up in this idea, time had flown by in a way that led to Tempest running down the hallways, irritated that she had blatantly forgotten time and agenda.

Met with a classroom full of eyes as she flung open the door, Tempest could not easily dismiss the embarrassment she felt. The students were young and almost entirely scared, though that was of little importance by this point. There was barely a student left that wasn't scared. Professor Slughorn looked towards her as well, a slightly sombre look in his eye. He had always seemed to react to her in that way, Tempest thought to herself. He had been one of the first of the staff members to recognise who she was, though had been one of the only ones to allow the rumours to spread about the school until students were thoroughly aware of her connections with the famous Harry Potter. Slughorn had additionally become awkward around her due to a continuous inability to remember whether she was a Potter or an Evans.

"You're later than we expected, Miss..." He trailed off, again having forgotten how to address her. Not wishing to correct him, Tempest allowed the mistake to be made and simply went by this name for the morning. She cast her eyes over the class before returning her concentration to Slughorn.

"What year is this?"

"Second years," he replied briskly, his face turning an interesting shade of red. One child from the back row giggled nervously, not sure whether he was to take the situation seriously or not.

"And what are they making today?"

"We- we weren't, actually, we were studying the properties of- of Bowtruckle droppings…"

"They change the colour of the Tickling Potion," Tempest said, confused and slightly disgusted with the simplicity of the lesson plan. "I doubt that they have much use for that."

"Then, then we shall discuss- yes, the Tickling Potion, I don't believe that we've been though that in this class, have we?"

Slughorn turned to Tempest, waiting for approval it seemed, which she granted with a nod of her head. The lesson continued, a rush commencing as students were sent about the room, collecting whatever supplies they required for their work that day. Humoured, Tempest sat at one of the corners of the room, surveying with what seemed to be a careful eye. In truth, the initial fuss had died down and created a lulling boredom about the class who had obviously expected something a little more lively in their classes than a Tickling Potion.

The smallest satisfaction came, though, from the room due to the fact that the younger the student, the less likely they were to know or care who she was. Without the familiarity of eyes peering at her on a constant basis, Tempest felt an overwhelming calm rush over her. The calm barely lasted long enough as the lesson ended surprisingly abruptly compared to what she had wished. She rose and watched the children leave in an eager manner, detecting the sense of awkwardness that seemed to engulf the dungeon room.

As the classroom was emptied, Slughorn kept his head down to his desk, sorting through papers mindlessly in an almost cliché manner. Tempest watched him briefly before being overwhelmed by the embarrassment that the professor radiated. Although a slight determination in the back of her mind made Tempest wonder briefly whether she was to speak out about the lesson but decided not to, sure that it would have brought no use to either of them. With nothing to report in any case, there was no need to bring about the trouble and worry speaking the slightest word would cause.

Despite it being so soon after a lesson had finished, the corridors were extremely empty with only a few passing students who kept their eyes down, either embarrassed or holding a mutinous glare. It was distracting to be surrounded by such feelings of contempt, enough so to keep Tempest from being as aware of her surroundings as she would be at any other point in time. She felt a weight push against her shoulder as she walked and stumbled slightly before looking back, her eyes locking immediately with the boy who had collided with her. The boy seemed tense at first, frozen with some form of terror and distaste.

"My fault," Tempest murmured, taking no pleasure in the idea of drawing out the meeting between the two. She recognised him ever so slightly as the boy who had spoken out on the Quidditch pitch all that time ago, though held no interest. She turned back and walked onwards through the hallway, unaware of the sound of the boy's breathing growing heavier. Finally, he seemed to have snapped, and Tempest was given no warning before she hit the floor, an unknown curse having hit her squarely between the shoulders.

"You don't deserve to be here!" the boy shouted, his hand shaking and disallowing him any luck again with his aim as lights flashed with each spell. "You _shouldn't_ be here!"

Tempest attempted to stand but fell again and again, leaving her with no option but to crawl away. A small crowd had started to gather as the boy became more and more determined, more and more distressed.

"I haven't _done_ anything," Tempest said quickly, holding out a hand. She had briefly passed her hands over her pockets and sleeves, trying to find her wand but having no luck in the attempt. The boy barely seemed to notice her speak, though, and held his wand firmly.

"_Cr-Crucio_." The spell hit Tempest with unexpected precision, though she felt nothing more than a tickle.

"_Crucio_!" It still didn't work.

Tempest's fear had not entirely washed away seeing this, but pity overtook the majority of this feeling. Such anger was sad to see at the best of times, but to see it in a way that was no where nearly strong enough to be expressed was more than one could bear to see. The boy saw he was unable to do anything useful with the curse and stood shaking with anger.

"How could you be something like this?" he asked quietly, lowering his wand arm. "After everything Harry did for us?"

All went quiet except for the oncoming sound of footsteps. Tempest could not help but stare into the boys eyes at that time, searching for a sign of regret, hoping that he would see the ounce that she held. It was only an ounce, but perhaps enough.

"Longbottom." The boy did not turn as Severus moved behind him and took hold of the scruff of his shirt. "What do you think you're doing here, boy?"

Tempest scrambled to her feet, avoiding eye contact with the boy who seemed almost oblivious to Snape's presence. A quick flash appeared in Severus's eyes as he noticed the amount of people who had gathered at the scene. He looked worried for a single moment before his composure was regained and he looked back towards Longbottom with nothing short of hatred.

"You'll be punished severely for this," Severus hissed, the words almost painstaking. He pushed the boy away with a determined force. "Detention, two hours every evening for the next month."

Longbottom looked towards the headmaster briefly before returning his eyes to Tempest, running down the corridor moments later. It was an almost surreal experience to look back on, little more than a few words said but enough to put Tempest's mind at unease for the remainder of the day. The crowd cleared fairly quickly as an awkwardness settled that none wished to be a part of. Now that the hallways had been cleared by the need for students to be elsewhere, Severus was free to lead Tempest back towards the headmaster's office, somewhat more severe than she had expected him at that point. He had been almost continuously cold over the months that had passed, leaving no suspicion when it was noted here.

"I'll be absolving you of those duties next time," he said immediately upon entering the office.

"Whatever you say."

"You won't be going through the corridors alone either. Far too many people are aware of the Potters for it to be safe."

"I suppose so."

Severus paused in his thoughts, staring with a curious look in his features.

"You're not arguing?"

"I don't want to cause any more trouble," she replied with a shrug, staring into space.

"That's the least of your worries if you're going to be attacked in the hallways."

"That boy," Tempest began quickly, suddenly snapping from her previously serene state. "That's the same one from the Quidditch field, right?"

"Yes," Severus replied through tightly gritted teeth. "A devoted follower of your brother's."

"I'd guessed as much as that. I thought you said he was cowardly?"

"He was."

Tempest bit her lip, grabbing hold of a seat cushion from the nearest chair and gripping it as tightly as she could. She shook slightly and released her lip with a gasp of air.

"And then Potter fever got the best of him, I guess?"

Severus did not know how to reply and instead watched as Tempest's face flushed with a violent blush and with a tremendous force she threw the pillow into the air and threw a spell towards it. A shower of feathers spread itself across the room, the flurry acting as a distraction as Tempest paced the floor, holding her wand with an unusually tight grip.

"It's not fair!" she screeched, unable to maintain any form of dignity. "Why am _I_ getting the blame here? _I_ didn't ask to come here, _I_ didn't choose for any of this to happen!"

"You only realise this now?" Severus asked with a sarcastic hint of humour.

"Don't you dare try and laugh this away, Severus."

"We knew this day would come from the moment you were taken in," he replied callously. "You are overshadowed by what your brother has done and nothing will come from weeping about it."

"I have to be constantly reminded of the fact, don't I?" she snapped bitterly, sparks emitting from the tip of her wand.

"If the message must be drilled into your mind, then yes, you must. You were not put on this planet to serve a greater purpose, that is someone else's business and not yours to hold."

Any attempt that Tempest could make to speak at that moment was choked off by her inability to comprehend the callous nature of Severus's speech. She dropped her wand, not at all caring where it would land and having no particular interest in holding it any time soon.

"I don't require brutal honesty," Tempest said through a closed throat.

"You'll get nothing else, though."

Unsure whether to accept this as positive or negative comment, Tempest ignored it, and kicked her wand away briefly before collapsing into a chair, staring into space for what seemed the remainder of the day.


	50. Chapter 50

_And I know I may end up failing too  
But I know you were just like me  
With someone disappointed in you  
__- Numb, Linkin Park_

It was obvious as they sat at the tables that evening for the evening feast that the number of students had dwindled furiously since the Christmas holidays. It had been months and they seemed to leave of their own accord to areas unknown. By Easter half of the Gryffindor house had been disappearing on a regular basis until finally they had gone full stop. Not to mention how many others from the remaining houses had left. Severus had momentarily considered a search party to be sent for them at the request of some of the more vicious Slytherin students, but he refused the idea, knowing that these lost students were most likely safer wherever they were.

News had been coming on a regular basis about Harry Potter's whereabouts. Only days before, the Daily Prophet had reported that he and his 'accomplices' had invaded Gringotts. Since that moment on rumours had been spreading, ideas had been forming, until each and every person within the school had their own theories on when their blessed friend would return. On Tempest's part, she could not care less. His return meant a confrontation she had never been ready for and the end of a life she had only just begun to form a bond with.

The obvious split in the Slytherin table had become stronger within those months since Christmas. It was clear that a majority of the elder students were quite content with their situation, to rule over the students in their spare time without the added pressures that belonging to their side would give. The younger students were given the intelligence and hope of the Order through their naivety and inability to understand their situation to its fullness. The unity that had spread throughout the students of the school forced them to accept these younger Slytherin students despite the minority's better judgement, though by this point in the year they were quite glad of the company in their efforts of rebellion. Not that these efforts had been very well thought out, but they were enough to give the sanity needed to get through the year.

As for Tempest herself, the months had provided little in any form of information that proved useful to her, thus leaving her with nothing but the bitterness that she had entered the New Year with that now dwelled to a point where should we be left for days at a time mute, consumed by the anger that turned itself into depression. This had been noted on Severus's part but never brought up, his natural instinct telling him that no good would come out of it. However, despite the fact that he ignored whatever attitude she brought about during the day, Severus was now unable to ignore her any longer at night when her previously non-existent nightmares were becoming more vivid, to the point where he was awoken every other night by the sound of whimpers and screams.

Even that very night he found himself once again disturbed as Tempest could be heard increasing her mutterings until she was frantically speaking out with incoherent cries. He had learnt not to panic any longer about these things, but still felt the need to wake the girl from whatever it was that scared her at night. Severus impatiently fastened the belt of his dressing robe as he descended the stairs that led from his own room to the small area where Tempest slept. He sat down on the lounge chair that she rested on as she writhed pathetically with whatever it was that plagued her dreams. With a firm grip, Severus took hold of her shoulders and squeezed slightly, shaking her into consciousness.

"Wake up," he muttered, unable to summon the energy or interest to bring himself to speak with any form of fervour.

Finally she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly and looking around the room.

"You were dreaming," Severus explained when Tempest's eyes had settled on him and a slight insecurity settled in her expression.

"That wasn't a dream," Tempest whispered feverishly, passing her hand across her forehead to wipe away the thin layer of sweat that had formed.

"I don't suppose you're any more inclined than any other night to tell me what it was about?"

"Thank you for asking anyway," she replied, smiling half-heartedly. With little other need for remaining there, Severus nodded and turned from the young girl. She in return watched him leave, her brow furrowed. "It was a graveyard," she called out as Severus approached the staircase. He paused momentarily, though when he turned his head he did not seem curious as much as he seemed almost irritated that she would choose this moment to finally speak up.

"Not exactly the most frightening thing I'm sure that your subconscious could come up with."

"No, I didn't make it up. It was from that night, when- when _He_ came back. The graveyard where he had Harry."

Severus waited, as if wanting her to continue, though Tempest had no persistence in the subject to continue of her own will. She stared back in turn, waiting for a question, to satisfy curiosity rather than her need to confess.

"I hardly see why you would think on the night so badly," Severus said lightly, seeing that the silence would hang if he did not speak out first. "You were not harmed; you had no reason to take it to heart."

"I was just a girl!" Tempest cried out incredulously, her eyes wide and her breath short with disbelief. "A girl who faced Vol- You-Know-Who out of nowhere. Who saw her brother practically _tortured_."

"A girl who was brought up stronger than to dwell," Severus stated in reply. Tempest closed her mouth quickly, unable to speak after hearing this. She finally nodded slowly. Maybe he was right. "Now go back to sleep."

The authority in his voice sent a swift shiver down Tempest's spine, her own tiredness making her more aware of the abrupt nature in which he spoke. She nodded again, falling back into the chair and staring at the ceiling. When Severus was satisfied that there would be no more noise, he disappeared again into his own chamber.

* * *

It was difficult for Tempest to accept the fact, but the years had hardened her to a state where she was unable to- or at least, reluctant to- accept anything and everything that surrounded her. One might have called it insanity, though she thought it instead her own cocoon, protecting her from the horrifying screams that echoed through the halls each and every week.

The detentions had been becoming increasingly brutal over the months to a point where those who entered were likely to spend the following week in the Hospital Wing. The staff had learnt to accept whatever behaviour came their way, unable to bring themselves to give out detentions anymore. Of course, the students had learnt enough from what they had heard to never step a toe out of line. Punishments were given only by the Carrows now, who delighted in framing the younger years for all manner of activities and swiftly giving them the blame. Severus, in his position, was unable to stop this, lest his stance should be given away.

Unable to take these issues that had plagued the rest of the school as seriously as she wished she could, Tempest simply ignored them, biding her time as she always had; reluctant obedience. Her nightmares had become more subdued, barely there since Severus had spoken to her that night. Though grateful, there was something perturbing about a restful nights sleep that she could not become used to. She resorted instead to dreadful thoughts during the day that she allowed to eat away at her, hoping that soon enough she could return to whatever restlessness it is that kept her sane before.

"Did you know," she said fervently one evening as she and Severus sat by the fireplace a strangely cold June evening, "that after the first war there were facilities set up to retrain suspected Death Eaters?"

"A rumour, and nothing more."

"How would you know? You were saved with your word to Dumbledore. But there were, I've read it in copies of _The Daily Prophet_ in the library- facilities where they took witches and wizards were taken away and interrogated, cruelly rehabilitated, even if they-"

"And what is your point in all this?" Severus asked, folding his own newspaper- it was common for him now to become engrossed in the news as he attempted to find some glimmer of truth.

Tempest bit her lip and looked down for a moment, playing with a strand of her hair.

"D'you think that'll happen again? We might not be able to leave straight away, they might try and- try and get us all together in one of those camp things like last time or something."

"There are no such thing as 'those camps'. I don't know where you are getting your information from but stop thinking of it now."

"But it _could_ be true, couldn't it? This time round? Things are far worse now than they ever were then, it's only logical it'll be worse for us."

"I'm quite tired of all your complaints of the future when you've yet to come to terms with the present."

"Some of us have to think of the practicalities," Tempest muttered bitterly, yanking at her hair once before releasing the strand. It had been months now that she had left it to grow, something that had not escaped Severus's notice. He would of course not have bothered thinking on the fact if he had not walked in on Tempest once or twice practising spells in the mirror, attempting to make it grow.

"You really mustn't," Severus said eventually, somewhat softer than the tone he had used before. "Potters evade trouble at all costs, remember?"

"And what happens to Snapes?"

"My loyalties will be discovered," he said slowly. "I shall be fine."

"I should hope so," Tempest said, watching Severus rise to leave. He often did not stay for mindless chats, disappearing by the time the clock struck ten. She watched him leave, her eyes not leaving his figure until she had heard the soft clicking of his door locking.

With quick, quiet movements, Tempest ran from her spot across the room and knelt at the floor a few feet behind the Headmaster's desk. She felt around lightly before finding a brick, the slightest shade darker than the rest, and started to pull at it. Her fingertips were always left slightly ripped, sometimes bleeding, but it was always worth it. The brick finally budged and a small wooden box was revealed to her. _The_ box. _Hers_. Smiling, Tempest took hold of it and stood, opening the lid and taking out a small piece of paper that sat in it.

"Hey," she whispered under her breath to the photograph that stared back at her with distant eyes, caught in the continuous loop that the figure was entrapped in. She hesitantly looked towards Severus's door again, making sure. If he saw her now… It had been weeks since she had sneaked into that room. Weeks since she had found this photograph safely hidden amongst so many others.

Lily wasn't doing much in the photograph, simply standing and looking at a book. The setting was barely recognisable- Hogsmeade had changed so much over the year that it barely looked the same over a short period of time than it had so long ago. Tempest was unsure if the picture had been taken with Lily's knowledge as she seemed so distant in the image, not even looking in the camera's direction. Tempest pulled again at a lock of her hair, pulling it out straight to check the length of it. _That seems about right_.

Looking hard once more at the photograph, Tempest placed it on the nearby desk and moved towards the mirror that was positioned to her convenience only a step away. It was a rarity that she should scrutinize herself in such a manner as she did in front of the mirror at that moment, turning and staring with deliberation. Wrinkling her nose, Tempest could not help but be irritated with what she saw. It simply wasn't fair that Lily should be able to carry weight about her hips in such an elegant manner and fill out her clothes so well while her daughter was left with the cruel inability to do so herself.

It was a strange and admittedly out of the blue decision that Tempest had made to mirror her mother's image. She did not have her father's annoyances, it seems, and nor did she have his specific talents and charms. But she was the image of her mother. If that was all there was to grip onto, it would be the one thing she would abuse.

Before long Tempest was disturbed by the sound of Severus's movement within his room, leading her to spring to action and rush about the room, taking little to no care as she shoved the photograph back into its box and then back into the gap in the floor. She could not help a short, sharp burst of nervous laughter as she did so, covering her mouth quickly to halt the sound as if that by itself would ruin her.


	51. Chapter 51

_Show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love,  
__Till it's inside my pores  
__Show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love,  
__Till I'm screaming for more  
__-Show me love, TATU_

It didn't matter that it was summer. It didn't matter that an intolerable heat had settled on the grounds that drove some students half to madness when combined with the tortures of their day to day lives. Despite all this, there was a constant chill that attacked each and every body within the school that was unexplainable for quite some time. The weeks passed slower than before, far slower than expected.

The Astronomy tower acted as a greater source of comfort, Tempest found, than it was supposed to around these times. When she found herself tired enough to ignore the presence of death in that room, she was able to enjoy the soothing coolness of a high lying breeze. It had not been difficult to escape for an evening or two a week to come again to this place and think to herself, contemplating whatever she could.

Ignoring the sickening lump that rose in her throat, Tempest looked over the edge of the Astronomy Tower balcony, looking as the slightest breeze rustled the grass, visible even from this distance. It would be almost impossible for anyone else to believe at that moment in time that a man had fallen from this very spot, to that very patch of grass rustled as if of its own free will.

_Would Harry feel the same standing here?_

She shook her head. Not everything had to relate to _him_. It didn't matter what he thought because she didn't _care_. Not at all. Not one bit.

_Dumbledore loved Harry. Loved him like a son. Of course Harry would feel this bad... he'd feel far worse._

But it didn't matter! Why should it matter? He wasn't here, and even if he were she would not ask what it was that disturbed he as he looked on the spot that Dumbledore was found dead. It didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. It _didn't matter_.

_It does_.

Biting her lip, Tempest closed her eyes and placed a hand in the deep pockets of one of her more comfortable set of robes. Her wand lay there, unwanted and untouched at that moment apart from the brief brushing of Tempest's fingers. She heard a reassuring rustling of paper, causing Tempest to release her lip with a sigh of relief. It was still there. She did not dare to look at the photograph again, frightened she would drop it over the edge of the rails that stopped her plummeting herself.

And with this in mind, Tempest stepped forward and placed a firm foot on the bottom railing. Pausing only briefly

to catch her breath that was caught quite fiercely in the moment, she pulled herself forward on the upper railing and swung her leg over, straddling the bar and clinging on for dear life.

Despite her situation, the wind did not taunt her and pick up or threaten to push her off the balcony. It stayed calm, refusing to play a bitter role. Smiling nervously to herself, Tempest shifted backwards until her back pressed against the arched wall that stood either side of the railing. Grabbing hold of the wall instead now, she again shifted her weight and finally pulled herself to her feet, her knees trembling as she looked upwards to the sky, refusing to look down.

_Don't look down_, she thought to herself determinedly. _Don't look down, don't you dare look down_.

She succeeded quite well in listening to herself, a talent that she had always possessed in the most required times. Though her knees still knocked together with the fear of it all, her feet stayed firm, unmoving. Tempest's confidence grew, though her eagerness to let go of the wall never got the better of her common sense.

And finally, she looked down.

It was strange to see the difference a couple of feet made to the distance between her and the ground. As if, if she were to jump, she would either fly or take far too much longer to fall. Not, of course, that she planned to test this. She simply wanted to... look.

In the blink of an eye, Tempest's foot shot out in front of her and arms wrapped themselves around her waist as she felt herself fall. She had the time only to utter a sharp yelp, a mixture of fear and surprise, before she clung onto the arms that had grabbed hold of her. There was little to no struggling as she felt herself being pulled back onto the floor of the balcony.

"What do you think you were doing?"

Tempest looked up and saw Severus standing in front of her, glaring with a pure disgust that she saw only on the rarest occasions. She swallowed thickly and looked back towards the edge of the balcony, then back again towards Severus. Her initial fear subsided and itself turned into a revulsion that was unfamiliar to her.

"What do _you_ think you were doing? I was perfectly fine till you tried to push me off!"

"Push you off? You think I was _pushing you off_?"

"You might as well have! I was fine without you, Severus."

"Then perhaps next time I'll just allow you to jump off the roof, shall I?"

"I wasn't gonna jump! Merlin, if I could I would- I'd-"

"You'd what?" Severus sneered, folding his arms. "Hex me, I suppose?"

"Maybe I would."

The two glared each other momentarily, the sentence settling in their mind long after it had been silenced. Narrowing her eyes with the thought in mind, Tempest felt her fingers twitching slightly as she became somewhat more tempted by the idea. Hesitating for only a moment before it became far too much to refuse, she shoved her hand in her pocket and pointed the wand in there towards Severus, her features stern.

"_Densaugeo!_"

The spell was easily blocked as Severus passed his own wand before him with a silent Shielding Charm. He shook his head almost pityingly.

"Come now, we aren't children here," he drawled, raising his wand. "I think we can do better than that."

With an unfamiliar flash of yellow, a spell shot its way towards Tempest, barely missing her head and instead hitting the wall behind her. She looked backwards to see the paint peeling as it bubbled and heated, running downwards towards the floor. Her head whipped around again and she felt a snarl threatening to be uttered.

"That could have killed me!"

"Be glad I didn't aim at you, then. Next time, try to be sharper with your shields."

Almost immediately the same spell was thrown forwards towards her, dodged narrowly as Tempest dove to her right, ducking her head. She heard herself growl, but did not care as she threw a Body Bind Hex in Severus's direction, as easily blocked as her previous spell. The exchange of spells and curses grew more and more violent, each time Tempest finding herself slower on the uptake than expected. She had not had the practise that her opponent had in the past in duelling and found the inability to defend herself at the same level almost excruciatingly unfair.

"Your mind is growing weaker," Severus said sternly, throwing another spell. "You cannot allow your mind's barrier to break."

"Stop trying to kill me and I might be able to!"

"In battle, you cannot plead for a break. You must learn to multitask, child."

"I'm not a child," Tempest screamed, the control of her emotions dying away as she attempted to regain the control of her thoughts. The small conversation had given her time enough to hold a Shielding Charm and allow her to gain her composure again. With the protection she had set in motion there, the situation that she was in suddenly became clear to Tempest and without truly knowing why, she could not help but smile.

"And what's so funny?"

"I don't even get why we're fighting," she said, laughing as she did so. The same realisation seemed to dawn upon Severus, shown in the way he tried to disguise the smile that threatened him. The humour had struck them both and the fighting could not be taken as seriously as it had only moments ago.

"I think I've got it!" Tempest cried, shielding herself from another curse. She suddenly squealed as her ankle was dragged by an invisible force, holding her in the air for a moment before she dropped again to the floor.

"Never be cocky in a fight," Severus warned, putting away his wand. Tempest was about to retort when she noticed this, somewhat disturbed by the trust he had in her.

"If you say so." Tempest reached for her wand that had landed a few feet away from her before she saw something else that caught her eye. She froze momentarily, but long enough for Severus to note the hesitance and stare downwards as well. Upon seeing the piece of paper, he was quiet, assuring the details to himself.

"What is that?" His tone was far too light and conversational to be true. Even at his most comfortable of times he had never used such a tone.

"It's nothing," she replied, reaching for the photograph that had fallen from her pocket. As her fingertips touched it, though, it shot from the floor into Severus's waiting hand. He studied the image for some time, his face blank.

"Where did you get this?"

"You know where I got it," Tempest whispered reluctantly.

"I know I do. Perhaps I want to hear you admit it? Where did you get this?"

Tempest sat quietly, frozen with a newfound fear. She dared not even move to get her wand, the only protection she could find at that moment in time. The silence had gone on far too long for Severus and he moved forward to grab hold of Tempest's shoulders, pulling her to her feet and shaking her, the fury in his eyes burning her.

"_Where did you get this_?"

"I-in your room," she stammered, closing her eyes and turning her head sharply away. "I d-don't know why I went in, I just did, okay? I just thought- I just- you have so many, I didn't think you'd miss the one."

Severus rose his hand, as if to strike her, but paused with his hand held in mid air. His other hand still gripped Tempest's shoulder, his fingers digging into her flesh until she wished to whimper with pain. He pushed her away from him, returning his attention to a smiling, unaware Lily who looked up from her photograph. Another thought struck him, but it was too… absurd. It couldn't have any truth behind it, he was sure. And yet…

"Is this why you've…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Have you been attempting to… _imitate_…"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Are you _sick_? Playing the image of a dead woman?"

"That dead woman is my mother, Severus," Tempest said, her voice rising and her words steadier. "So what if I want to be a little more like her?"

"You aren't her," Severus muttered, turning away from the girl.

"I'm not saying I am! And I'll never be her, but what if this's the closest I'll ever get?"

"Don't strive for such things!"

"Why shouldn't I?" She scrambled to her feet and reached for her wand, shoving it furiously into her pocket. If only to resist the temptation to send hexes or spells in whatever direction seemed useful at the moments of rage. "Harry gets to be like my dad, doesn't he? You always kept reminding me of it. And you won't tell me _anything_ about him so all I can cling onto is something as stupid as an image, one I can't even get _right_-"

She didn't expect to be taken by the shoulders again, the force with which she was held almost too much to bear without her wincing in pain. She could not help but look Severus in the eyes now, at which point he could see the tears welling up in hers. Her mouth hung slightly open, her lips trembling, and the fear was all too evident.

"I won't allow you to be anything like your mother," he said bitterly, shaking her slightly. "And Merlin help me for admitting it, but you are not like your father. You are _Tempest_, and there's no reason for you to attempt otherwise."

Silence fell on the two as they stared at each other for a moment, Tempest allowing the words to echo through her mind. She bit her lip and looked downwards, an action Severus mistook at the time for a form of shame or embarrassment overtaking her. His grip on her shoulders relaxed until finally he let his hands fall away. With the ability to move, Tempest suddenly put her hands forward onto Severus's chest and stood on her toes, looking up.

Her lips brushed his only briefly before she was pushed away again, too fiercely for her to bad able to keep herself on her feet. Once again Tempest found herself on the floor, looking upwards towards an enraged Severus. She wiped her watering eyes quickly, her breathing suddenly more rapid.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, attempting to control her breath. "I just thought- it sounded like you- like you were-"

"Like I was what?" Severus snapped, his features frozen in twisted revulsion. Tempest could not answer and bit down on her lower lip, threatening to draw blood but with a refusal to overstep that boundary. She felt herself losing control, though, as her shoulders started to shake violently and the tears began to spill more violently.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, choking on the words. "I'm sorry, I'm so s-sorry, I'm-"

The rest of the words did not come out and were instead muffled by the sound of Tempest's cries. She was blind now to the world as her vision became blurred, stopping her from seeing the way in which Severus's features softened ever so slightly, inevitable to anyone who could see Tempest now. He stepped forward and hooked an arm under the girl's knees and lifted her from the floor. Tempest was barely aware of the action, but knowing that there was someone to hold onto led her to immediately cling onto the material of Severus's clothing, gripping with whatever strength her weak form would provide.


	52. Chapter 52

_I'm not pretending  
To make it simple  
Try to be something  
Experimental  
-Perfect Enemy, T.A.T.U._

It had been quite some times since Tempest had found herself waking in a bed, and the comfort was unfamiliar enough for her to lie there for some time, bathing in the newfound surroundings. When she finally opened her eyes, she noted that the room was not as unfamiliar as it had been before, and recognised it almost immediately to be Severus's bedchamber. She sat up abruptly and rubbed her eyes, wincing at the abrupt movement. The night had left her aching, the tears having been too much for her to stand.

On leaving the room and entering the office, Tempest noted that it was bright outside, and blushed as she realised she had been asleep for far longer than she often expected of herself. Severus waited patiently at his desk, seemingly unaware of her presence in the room. It wasn't until she had made her way down the staircase and sat in the chair opposing him at the desk that he finally looked at her, albeit with a nonchalance that bordered insolence.

"So you finally graced the room with your presence?"

"You could have woken me up if you wanted to," Tempest replied, half smiling. "If I could have been put to better use."

"I'm afraid you wouldn't. All that can been done has been done."

"You're overly polite today."

Severus seemed vaguely amused at this, leaning forward slightly with a thin smile.

"Is it a crime to be civil?"

"You're never civil. And after what I did yesterday..." She trailed off, finding the sentence self-explanatory and not wishing to embarrass herself further. There was a hazy sympathy in Severus's eyes that was almost unrecognisable, yet all the while still undeniable.

"I will admit, that is one of the more surprising outcomes of your upbringing, but not the harshest I expected to deal with."

"But you were so angry, I just thought-"

"An initial reaction is nothing to judge me on," Severus interrupted. "I did not expect nor wish for your actions, but they could have been far worse. As I said, I expected worse."

"What do you mean worse?"

He paused, uneasy with the question but knowing full well that it would be childish to not answer. It wouldn't be fair. Severus stood from his seat and moved around the desk, his gaze almost distant.

"You have been raised in a world where you were taught to hate whatever you saw to be unworthy of you," he began slowly, stopping short in front of her and looking into Tempest's eyes, a seriousness in the way he did so expressing no end of sincerity. "You did so without the influence I had to do any good in the world. And yet, through it all, I cannot see how you did not end up far worse than you are today."

"Whatever you say, I did have the right influence."

"You thought me a faithful Death Eater until not long ago."

"But I thought you honourable enough."

"No, you didn't. You thought of me as evil. It is why you were so frightened of me before you learnt to fight back,

if only with a wit I could not help but admire in someone of your age."

"_You_ only admired the spells I could cast."

"They were impressive, I will admit. You were a powerful child, Tempest."

"And now only mediocre," Tempest sighed with a shrug, looking downwards. It was true. She had felt her powers slipping for years now until she was consumed by the mediocrity that her wand brought.

"Only if you allow it."

"It's not like I wanted this to happen."

"But you have been far too concentrated on fighting everything else but refused to fight what bothered you most."

"That sounded almost positive," Tempest said weakly with a wan smile. She saw Severus's hand move to place itself on her shoulder but was stopped abruptly as the sound of knocking at the door echoed through the room, reverberating off of the walls.

"Come in," he called, his hand returning quickly to his side as he backed away. The door opened slowly enough and the Callow siblings entered, a war between meekness and delight on their faces. They stood either side of a young boy whose pale face hid no secrets of his fear.

"Young lad here refuses to take part in his detention, sir," Amycus said, licking his dry lips. "Thought we'd bring him up to you."

"And what do you expect me to do with him?"

"You're the headmaster, I'll remind you," Alecto said quickly, her cheeks flushing. "We expect you to be the one to administer a more severe punishment."

"In other words you expect me to do your job." The two siblings stood there, wavering slightly. "Let the boy go. If you will not carry out your job as ordered then I think he has been given the right to excuse himself from it."

The young boy shook slightly and smiled half heartedly. Looking up only briefly towards his two teachers, he turned sharply and ran back down the stairs, his breath heavy enough to be heard down the hallway. The siblings looked towards Severus, an unhidden malice in their eyes.

"You just let him go? But he was a trouble maker, a-"

"A Ravenclaw, all of whom according to you are trouble makers. If you cannot see fit to firmly punish him then I see no reason for him to be punished at all. Now leave, before I make it my business to report the two of you."

They scurried onwards, taking the threat as seriously as was intended and disappeared down the corridor as quickly as the student before them had.

"That was awfully brave of you."

"It had to be done."

Tempest nodded, looking at the wand that she had brought from her pocket as the Carrows looked as if to overstay their welcome.

"I wish I could be braver."

Severus looked at her for a moment, noting the strange way in which she looked at her wand, the way her fingertips glowed a strange pink with the force she gripped it with.

"What are you considering?" he asked quietly, unsure whether to think his suspicions true. Tempest looked

alarmed as he asked it, her eyes wide as if she were in danger.

"I wondered... what if I didn't have it? Would that make things better?"

"It is meant to harness your powers, not diminish them, I very much doubt it would make a difference."

"But how do you know that? Maybe it _is_ diminishing whatever amount I can do."

"You're thinking like a child."

"Sometimes it's the best thing to do. Sometimes you come up with the more ingenious ideas when you think like a kid." She paused, looking at the wand, before holding it out in an outstretched palm. "Destroy it."

"One of your ingenious ideas?"

"Not one of my better ones, but good enough."

"You're mad."

"Just do it, Sev!"

They were quiet for a moment as Severus attempted almost to stare down the girl, waiting for her to give in. His own weakness, though, disallowed it. He reached out and took hold of the wand, gently placing it on the desk behind him.

"Are you quite sure?" he asked, producing his own wand from his pocket.

"Definitely," Tempest replied, her eyes glittering with excitement. She looked only at the wand as Severus raised his arm and brought it down, a sudden shower of sparks hiding the initial fire that consumed the wand.

There was something sad in the destruction of a wand. Something more than Tempest expected at that moment in time, and never could comprehend until the day she died. Yet looking on, Severus himself could not understand why she would willingly let go of that source of magic she possessed.

"Are you pleased now?"

"Yes," she said immediately, smiling. "Yes, utterly."

"You are defenceless now. When the future battle comes, you will be alone."

"No. No, I won't. It's gonna be fine, I know it."

"Then don't expect me to save your skin."

"I won't need it. I can _feel_ it, Severus; I know it'll be fine. I just need to remember, that's all."

Severus could only roll his eyes as he watched Tempest make her way to her own strange corner of the room, practicing immediately.

* * *

The panic that settled in Tempest's mind through the coming days was well hidden, but not once did she doubt it was there. She _knew_ the power was there, she simply knew it. But why wouldn't it make itself known as soon as she wished it? Even with three days practice she had only mastered a first year's education of spells, knowing how to perform others but without the ability to do so.

Severus did not seem to have a clue of her situation and she doubted very much that he knew. Even in the darkest of times he would not refrain from the chance to taunt her for her childish decision. The right decision, though, she thought. It was still the right decision.

It seemed to be that along with the heat that the late spring months had brought, the depths of sorrow tried to drown each and every last one of them. They had just entered into the month of May, a time which had often brought the students a far friendlier Whomping Willow and the company of the Giant Squid if they wished it. Now, the tree seemed more ferocious than ever, craning its trunk at the slightest movement of feet, attempting to thrash out even with students passing by yards away. The squid seemed to have disappeared altogether, finding solace elsewhere where the air wasn't as thick with the malice of the Dark Lord.

Less and less news came from the outside world to the point where contact was deemed almost impossible. The Malfoys had still been condemned to their house imprisonment and Voldemort was still nowhere to be found, having disappeared from his disciples' sight since he had returned not long ago.

The oncoming battle seemed almost too close to bear by this point. Many knew that it was destined to come, though only a handful knew that it was to come soon. This opinion was almost too strong in the Headmaster's office, Severus and Tempest both reflecting on the fact privately without the other acknowledging it for quite some time.

Tempest sat in her corner, only looking up once or twice to ensure that Severus did not see her practicing almost demeaning spells. He remained ignorant, and she happy enough, though it could not last long. The silence was overwhelming, only broken by a crackling fire.

"When it comes," she began with a hoarse voice, not needing to explain herself, "what side must we fight on?"

"I have been given my instructions as to when I should make my own position known," he said matter-of-factly.

"As for you, I suppose you'll know when the time comes."

"And what if I don't?"

"I won't need to tell you, I should think."

"And will I have to fight with you?"

"A battle is an ugly thing; I doubt you'd be able to concentrate on following me."

Tempest nodded, smiling weakly and returning to her place, again reaching out and attempting any spell that would come to mind. Any spell at all. The idea of a battle so drastic that they could sense was so near sent that familiar electricity to her fingertips, and only her will could force any magic through.


	53. Chapter 53

_You call it over and I call you psycho  
Significant other?  
Just say we were lovers and we'll call it even  
We'll call it even_

_-Truce, The Dresden Dolls_

She could feel the spells spilling from her fingertips, firing across the room in any direction they could. The sensation was exhilarating, almost hypnotic. Before she realized it, Tempest was laughing almost madly, her eyes wide and unbelieving as she did so. It was power beyond that which she had conjured in the past year, far more. She did not remember if she had ever felt this powerful in the long run, but did not care. All that mattered was now.

The spare classroom had been engulfed in fire several times and drowned in water if only to put out the fires. Chairs had been thrown across the room in fits of anger and spells had split through the wood of the desks in moments of curiosity.

The noise could be heard from quite some distance, many students who were hurriedly rushing to their rooms by the curfew stopping only briefly until deciding the noises scary enough to frighten them away. It took some time for the message of these loud and disturbing noises to reach the headmaster's office, and within minutes of hearing the news Severus had made his way down to the East Wing of the second floor.

It was indeed a disturbing to see Tempest madly throwing her curses and spells in any direction that would take them. She did not seem aware of any other presence in the room, continuing with her work of sorts without turning a hair.

"Tempest," Severus said loudly and clearly, disallowing his tone to change with any passion. She still remained ignorant of him. He called her name again but was still ignored. Finally he felt his voice would give in attempting to cry out any more and he placed a careful hand on the girl's shoulder. Tempest spun quickly on her heel, a spell hitting the doorway that Severus had just entered.

"I did it," she said, grinning. "I managed to do it, I don't need a wand any more- I told you, Severus, I told you I didn't need it! I'll be able to fight now, I just know it, I won't have to stand aside, I won't have to-"

Tempest was suddenly cut off as she was flown across the room, landing with a dull crash as she landed against a fallen chair. She winced, shifting awkwardly to stand but unable to. Severus stood over her now, calmer than one would expect an attacker to be, his eyes dark and staring.

"You may have learnt how to utilize your magic," he said slowly, unmoving, "but any awareness you possess seems absent."

"That doesn't call for shooting me at a chair!"

"A chair? Don't you realize there are more things at stake than you _falling over a chair_?"

She paused and looked downwards, finally pulling herself to her feet.

"I just thought-"

"You don't think," Severus cut in with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And that is precisely your problem."

There was no use in speaking any more after that, so Tempest could only stand there, wavering slightly before deciding it best to move onwards. She did not wish to look back towards the room that she had quite nearly destroyed as she walked away, attempting to retain any ounce of dignity she could as she left in disgrace. Severus watched her leave, arching an eyebrow as he observed the insolence of her actions. He then turned again towards the classroom, finding it somewhat easier to register the destruction that had been caused. He sighed lightly and brought out his wand. Waving it briefly, he returned the room to its previous state and walked away satisfied once again.

* * *

Tempest sipped tentatively at her tea, a sudden need to sooth her nerves leading her to find a house elf and order a tea tray for the evening. The office was empty apart from herself, the sound of silence ringing from the walls and almost echoing. It was far more peaceful than the sounds that she knew were taking place elsewhere in the castle. The sound of torture, of weeping. It was far too much to bear in person, and so she had settled herself in the office alone, if only to ignore what was happening. Every so often she would move one hand away from her cup, casting a mild spell, perhaps only conjuring a bird or a flower. By the end of the hour, though, the room was filled with the small birds.

She looked towards the tray that stood practically untouched beside her, the tea growing cold. Her hands started shaking slightly as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. _He'll be here soon, he'll be here soon, he'll be here soon…_

The door slammed shut behind Severus as he entered the room, causing Tempest to jump and shake slightly more at the sight of him. He seemed more disheveled than usual, passing his hand across his hair.

"Was it that bad?" Tempest whispered. He only nodded in return and moved to his desk, searching through his papers. There was no point to it other than to distract himself.

Tempest stood shakily, still gripping onto her cup. She walked over to Severus, keeping her lips pressed tightly together for fear she should say something out of turn. He did not look up at her, almost too hurried in his distractions.

"You know it's coming, right?" Severus paused in his work, enough to urge Tempest on further. "The battle and all that."

"I think we all know that it's coming."

"But it's coming soon. I mean, I can't be the only one who can feel it."

"Don't assume yourself to be."

"It makes the past years seem insignificant in comparison," Tempest mused, though there was enough humour in her voice to display no ill will against the oncoming events. She paused, moving around the desk and sitting on it finally, facing Severus. "D'you remember when we first met?"

"I doubt _you_ would. You were just a baby."

"Don't be so picky! You know what I mean. Merlin, I was so petrified of you."

"You grew a little too cocky after that."

"Not until you started taking me for lessons," she remembered with a smile. "I hated them so much."

"Even I will admit you were good at them, though. You remember the potion I set you that first year?"

"Amortentia… yes, it was actually, wasn't it? You let me keep a vial."

"It was a shame to see you waste your talents away with ignorance to the subject."

Tempest smiled half heartedly, looking back over her shoulder and remembering the tea set.

"Did you want a drink?" she asked lightly, not looking at Severus as she asked.

"Tea isn't currently the first thing on my mind."

Tempest nodded, only half heartedly though, before hopping off of the desk and making her way to the tray anyway. Severus noted this but did not say anything, allowing the girl to do as she pleased if it would only keep him distracted or, at least, give the evening _something_. She set the tea pot boiling for a few moments, her back turned to Severus.

"Do you think much about death?" she asked suddenly, causing Severus to lift his head in what seemed like alarm.

"What do you mean?"

"Death. Do you think it could happen to one of us?"

"It could."

"Don't you ever think about it? I mean, _really_ think about it?"

"Do you?"

"That's not the question."

"If you'll answer it too, then yes, I do think about it. But I make a point of not emphasising my thoughts."

"I do. A lot. I mean, most of us will die, won't we? Otherwise we'd win."

"You seem so optimistic in the idea that we shouldn't."

"Well, we _shouldn't_. But we can't."

"Ensure you keep that optimism when you see students here die needlessly."

Unable to stand the idea, Tempest bit her lip and became almost suspiciously anxious as she poured the tea, barely missing the water as it spilt and narrowly avoiding a burn. She sighed shakily and pocketed a bottle as she took hold of two fresh cups of tea and placed one in front of Severus.

"It's always more soothing than you expect," she said, smiling the best she could. The illusion of her smile did not hide the tears that welled up in her eyes as she spoke, revealing her fear. Severus was cautious, but nevertheless took hold of his own cup, if only to appease her.

"There is no need to be afraid," he said finally, unable to look the girl in the eye. "_You_ will not be harmed."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not. But if I am not able to save your brother from whatever will befall him then I am bound by my duty to do what I can to protect you."

"For my mum?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," she muttered, sipping at her drink. Her teeth were audible against the smooth china, but both pretended that they hadn't heard a thing. Tempest could not help but stare as Severus drank some of his own. It was unfair that he should be so serene.

"Didn't Lucius teach you that staring was rude?"

"I'm sorry," Tempest said quickly, shaking her head. "I just... I was just thinking."

"Yes?"

"I wish I could be brave. Like you."

"The gift comes to few," Severus replied with an acute bitterness.

"How do you do it?"

Severus paused, putting down his cup. He thought for a moment.

"It would be different for you than it is for me. I have my own thoughts that carry me on."

"Lily?"

"Repentance."

"I've always admired your bravery," Tempest said lightly enough, considering the tears that spilt. "I want to know what would happen to me if I didn't see it anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know. If something... if something happened, when the time comes. If I lost you. If one of us... died."

"Your morbidity is almost sickening now," Severus snapped, sipping again at his tea. He softened quite suddenly, as though in deep thought. "Perhaps considering what you fear is your own form of bravery."

"Perhaps..."

"Your mother would be proud, you know," he said, looking up all of a sudden, allowing himself eye contact. "To know that you would be able to do such things."

"You think?" She bit her lip tightly after she spoke. _It's taking hold..._

"I'm sure." Severus stood, sitting his cup back down on the table. Tempest could not meet his eyes now, far too embarrassed. She could see strangeness in his person that she did not expect. She waited for some sort of sign that she was wrong or that her plans had gone astray, but they did not come. Instead, Severus stopped a foot or so in front of her, partly confused, partly oblivious.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, still not looking up.

"I believe you put something in my drink?" Severus said, though his tone was still far too soft to display any anger. Tempest rubbed at her eyes childishly, wiping away tears.

"I still had the bottle of Amortentia," she said finally, looking up but still not meeting Severus's eyes. "It's old, so I didn't think it'd work... maybe it's just... slow..." Severus's continuous confusion rushed Tempest's speech forward into a frenzy. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I just wanted to know what... what it might be like, if you actually wanted... if we...if there was ever a chance..."

She was stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in surprise as she felt herself embraced and her lips captured. It was a far cry from the last time Severus had kissed her. He had been colder before, only doing it to shut her up. That was all it had been; an essence of shock value. Now... she was almost frightened. It wasn't as if she were Tempest in his eyes anymore. She was someone else.

She didn't care.

With a desperation that took away all embarrassment, she wrapped her arms around the man's neck, standing on her toes to be closer. Severus was quiet, still under the potion's influence. It seemed mild enough to give him his sense and reason, enough to frighten Tempest into the idea that perhaps he knew what he was doing, and she would be the worst for it later. But his own earnest was enough to drive her forward for now.

Tempest finally turned her head for breath, giving them the pause long enough needed for her to take Severus's elbow and move him towards a seat, the two sitting. She quickly ducked her head down and held onto her friend tightly, thinking. She could feel his heart beating fervently, causing nothing less than a pit of fear that threatened to swallow her whole. He had never been so earnest. He had always been calm and collected; he had always passed aside such ideas of _romance_ and _matters of the heart_ with ease. He had never once shown the ability to lose his control that quickly.

But he wasn't doing it for her. He was delirious, of course. There was no other explanation. He had shown little to no feeling towards Tempest that had nothing to do with her mother. She could feel her throat closing up at the very thought. _Am I sick in the head_? Perhaps. But she did not like to think so freely about the idea of it. There was no point in frightening herself in such a way.

She looked up into Severus's eyes and smiled as brightly as she could. She wasn't Tempest to him any longer and wouldn't act as if she were. It was just a game of pretend. Play the part and perhaps everything would turn out fine...


	54. Chapter 54

_Do we run?_  
_Should I hide?_  
_For the rest_  
_Of my life_  
_-30 Minutes, T.A.T.U._

It had been, unbeknownst to Tempest, the last evening she would see her dearest friend clearly. She did not quite know it at that point, only the slightest tickle on the back of her neck warning her of any impending event.

When she woke up late that next morning, she found herself alone and left on her usual seat. Somewhat strange, but she was far too used to waking there to question it. She looked about the room quickly, scanning for any sign of Severus. There wasn't a single sign. She shrugged to herself and padded softly around the room, unable to concentrate for a single moment without something else distracting her. It was as if she were looking at the room for the first time, despite being familiar with it for two years now.

She passed at a mirror as her reflection caught her eye. Two years. In all truth, Tempest hadn't felt like she had changed a single bit. Yet she could see the evidence of such a short period of time take control of her. Her attempts at mimicking her mother's photograph had shown, her hips fuller and her hair longer. They were only superficial differences, though. They didn't matter.

Unsure of how long she had spent in that room, Tempest grew tired, unsure why Severus had not come back by this point in the evening. Before she had realised it, the evening had passed without events to fill it, nor company to distract her from the time flying by. The sun had long set and made way for the darkness of night. Finally, the temptation to hunt through the castle grew too much and Tempest grabbed hold of her cloak before making her way out of the office.

The curfew had long since passed and so the halls were disturbingly quiet. It made it somewhat easier to find commotion when she finally came by it. The noises began as a faint muffle, audible only when Tempest concentrated and made out the voices to be that of Professor McGonagall's and Severus's. She knew better, though, when coming closer than to immediately integrate herself into the conversation, sensing its tone.

"I wonder what could have brought you out of bed at this late hour?" she heard Severus say, that same forced tone she had heard so many times before.

"I thought I heard a disturbance."

"Really? But all seems so calm." There was a slight pause. "Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist-"

There was a sudden clang of noise and crackling of fire that sounded far too quickly for Tempest to take note of what was happening. She dared not look around the corner of the wall she hid behind for fear she would be caught, difficult in itself as the temptation grew almost painful. A third person became apparent in the fiasco that could be heard, a high squeaking voice that could only have belonged to Professor Flitwick.

"Minerva!" he said, then pausing as movement took place that Tempest burned to watch herself. "No!" he suddenly squealed. "You shall do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

A clanging sound similar to that of the suits of armour that Tempest knew stood at that corridor echoed through the hallway for a short time before the armour fell to the floor and footsteps sounded, moving towards one of the classroom doors.

"Coward! Coward!" Tempest winced at the words. _Don't say that_. A multiple set of footsteps followed and Tempest could hear a sickening sound, the shattering of glass. She knew very well it could only mean one thing and could not help but gasp at the idea, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the sound. Her suspicions were confirmed as she heard McGonagall say: "He jumped".

Tempest was secure in the knowledge that all the people present had retreated to that classroom and poked her head around the corner of the wall, watching them converse in their own world.

_With Harry_.

She had known that this day would come soon. The day he would return to Hogwarts. The day the battle would begin. She simply hadn't expected it on that very day. The professors looked earnest now, determined in their knowledge of what was to be, what they were now to plan. It did not take them long. It was as if they had known all along what they were to do.

"The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties," McGonagall said, the first piece of conversation that Tempest had clearly heard. "Go and wake your students, Horace."

Though she had managed to stifle her previous outburst, Tempest felt herself growing weaker at the images in front of her and her knees gave way beneath her. She stumbled forward and immediately took a deep breath, holding it as she looked up. The Potions Master looked down at her and looked to his side, seeing all others distracted. His attention then returned to Tempest who had gathered the sense to scramble to her feet in attempts to run away.

He ran after her with a strange determination in his eyes that Tempest caught only briefly as she looked behind her as she ran. She stopped abruptly further down the corridor, seeing a deserted classroom and noting that Slughorn was some distance off, his stature giving him a greater disadvantage. She ran into the room and towards the window at the opposite side of the room overlooking the lake. With a shuddering sigh of relief, Tempest could see that familiar dark figure far off into the distance, disappearing into the night. He was alive. She started to grab at the handle of the window frame, trying to open it but unable to do so. All ideas of magic were lost to her as panic forced her more primitive side to bang on the window, trying to break it. If Severus could survive the fall, she would try her hardest to do so to.

"Come back," she whimpered, banging more furiously on the glass. "Come back for me!"

The smallest noise was apparent at the doorway which caused Tempest to flinch violently and turn to see Slughorn there, panting heavily. He held his wand pointed in her direction, though he seemed doubtful of what he was to do with it. Tempest held up a hand, half pleading with him.

"Please," she said as calmly as she could. "Please, think of Lily- think of my mother- you wouldn't kill me, would you?"

He hesitated slightly, though his wand stayed firm in his grasp, his arm refusing to move.

"You can't let me die this way!"

"We can't accept _Death Eaters_ here any longer," Slughorn said slowly, his brow furrowing as he let the words settle in his determined mind.

"Just trust me!"

Slughorn paused, his hand shaking. Finally, his hand started to waver and he lowered his arm. The doubt was still strewn across his face, but he put it aside. Tempest smiled weakly, but did not lower her hand.

"_Expelliarmus_!" The look of shock did not register on Slughorn's face before he crashed backwards into the wall behind him. "I'm sorry," Tempest said hurriedly as she ran past by him, sprinting down the hallway. "I'm sorry!"

The security of his fall gave her the drive to continue running until she finally found her way to the Entrance Hall, empty apart from the noise of oncoming pupils about to be evacuated. No one would notice her running from the school towards the oncoming Death Eaters that so stealthily made their way to the Forbidden Forest. All but a few figures who seemed to steer away from the main crowd, in which Tempest could not spot either Severus nor the Dark Lord himself. It was the flash of white-ish blonde in the dark night that caught her attention.

"Draco!" The figure stopped when it recognised the voice and called back.

"Tempest?"

Running full throttle now towards Draco, Tempest could feel her throat closing up, disallowing her the chance to call out again. The two collided, Draco having been running as well, embracing each other quickly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tempest asked angrily after swallowing thickly to regain her voice.

"The others- Crabbe and Goyle- they'll still be in the castle."

"So? They'll choose their side and fight when the time is right."

"I can't just leave them!"

"You have to! What if something happens in there?"

"Something's gonna happen out _here_, so I've got to at least try!"

With a last desperate look, Draco smiled nervously and back away, turning sharply and running. Tempest bit her lip and contemplated following him for a moment, but the moment passed as the draw of a large group was far too much for her. She followed the larger and more secluded mass of Death Eaters that went in the opposite direction towards the forest.

It did not take as long as she expected to catch up with the others, and the ease and relief that engulfed her the moment she stepped into the makeshift camp. No one seemed to notice her step forward as their own issues occupied them. The Malfoys were clear enough to find, especially now that a fire had been lit in the middle of the camp that lit up their faces. Tempest ran forward and grasped hold of Narcissa's hand, the first she could find. The woman jumped slightly as she felt the contact, but upon seeing Tempest grabbed hold of the girl by the shoulders and shook her slightly.

"Where is he?" she asked quickly, her voice shrill. "Where's Draco? Did you see him?"

"He- I saw him on his way to the castle, I thought I-"

"Why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you just tell him to stop, you should have made him come here, you should have-"

"I couldn't! He wouldn't listen to me! I would if I could, but he- but I-"

The words began to choke in her throat as it closed up, stopping her excuses. She knew there was no excuse for letting him run away other than her inability to say no. Lucius squared himself up, standing firm beside his wife whose panic seemed all the more fervent when compared. He cleared his throat and put a gentle hand on Narcissa's shoulder, attempting to guide her away.

"You can't blame this on her," he said quietly, though he seemed doubtful. He turned sharply on his heel and made his way out of the clearing.

"Where are you going?"

"Someone must do something to find him."

"And where would you look? I can't lose you as well!"

"You won't." Somehow, it didn't seem reassuring enough. "Just don't leave the camp. I will be back the moment I can."

"But what if you _don't_ come back?"

Lucius paused and looked over his shoulder towards Narcissa. He could only smile half heartedly, seemingly the most reassurance he could give at the time. Tempest could feel Narcissa's nails sink deeply into her shoulders, the pain stinging, though she hadn't the heart to try and push Narcissa away. _Let her get through this moment_. She whimpered now, barely able to divert her eyes from Lucius as he walked away, his own stride wavering even as he disappeared through the trees.

Moments after the last wisp of white blonde hair disappeared into the shadows, Narcissa turned and wrapped her arms around Tempest's neck, pulling her close and sobbing into the crook of her neck. The sudden movement took Tempest by surprise, but she did not take long to soften to the woman's cries and tentatively placed her own arms around Narcissa and patted her back.

"He'll be back soon, just you wait," Tempest murmured, knowing full well she couldn't put any evidence to the sentence, though it proved effective enough. Narcissa backed away slightly and wiped her eyes quickly, rubbing the tears away.

"Aren't you coming?" The two turned to look at Bellatrix who seemed childishly excited by this point at the thrill of battle. Narcissa sniffed contemptuously.

"I don't fight. And… oh!" She put a hand to her mouth, fresh tears spilling. "Oh, I gave my wand to Draco! He said he need- he needed it for something, but I don't know…"

"I didn't mean you," Bellatrix said slowly, bordering on apologetically. "No, Tempest. Tempest, you must come, _you're_ prepared for it."

"I'm not," she replied, shaking her head fervently. "I couldn't, not knowing who's there…"

"You don't _owe_ him anything." But Bellatrix didn't argue any longer. She bumped a fist lightly against Tempest's shoulder and moved onwards with a large majority of the Death Eaters, all of whom confidently made their way towards the castle.

Narcissa paced the ground, constantly fidgeting and brushing her hair behind her ear. Only a few remained behind, though they had the common decency to not stare at Narcissa in her state. Tempest sat cross legged on the grass, tearing grass from the ground and ripping it as if it would relieve any sense of stress. It didn't.

* * *

"Lucius!" Tempest turned her head sharply and saw Narcissa fling herself towards her husband who emerged from the trees, fresh horror in his features. "What took you so long?"

"He… wished for me to go and find Severus on his behalf."

"Severus?" Tempest asked quickly, her eyes wide. "Why'd he want to see him?"

"He would not tell me."

"And did you find him? Where was he?"

"By the Herbology rooms, I think… yes, he was. Looking for Potter."

"He was looking for Harry?" She paused and bit her lip. "Then where is he now?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

Tempest nodded and stood, lowering her eyes so as to avoid the Malfoy's gaze. They watched for a moment as she moved towards the trees before taking in her movements and understanding.

"What are you doing?" Lucius asked quietly, though he remained still.

"I have to go find him."

"No, you don't."

"I'm still bound to him by the Dark Lord's word, I have to go and at least wait for him."

"You can't leave us as well," Narcissa whispered, her hands clinging to Lucius's sleeves. She did not move towards Tempest, but her tone expressed a sincerity that forced Tempest to stop for a moment. She raised her eyes towards the two, a small smile on her lips.

"But you know where I'll be. And you know I'll be back."

"At the very least be careful," Lucius said, nodding his head. He did not want to move towards her either. Tempest allowed her smile to grow a little larger; she had affection enough for concern, but not enough to smother her with falseness. It was all she could ask for.

By this point, Tempest was far too used to running for her own comfort, but it did not provide the loss of thought that it once had early on in the day. _Why would He want to speak to Severus? _No, it made sense. Severus had been his 'right hand man' for so long. He knew the inside workings of the castle. He just needed to know where the professors might be, where they would send the students. It was all part of strategy. It was all about the battle. That was all.

Then why did it all feel so much more dangerous than that?

Without realising that so, Tempest's pace quickened, her breathing becoming heavier. The only way she knew of entering the Shrieking Shack was by exiting the grounds again and finding her way through Hogsmeade, and the distance frightened her into sprinting the distance. The ground crunched beneath her feet, as if ready to crumble below her, and the air whipped with a violent noise against her ears, showing no mercy. The sounds only helped to enhance the fear wringing at her chest.

The Shrieking Shack was only yards in the distance now, a fact that Tempest concentrated on as she attempted to jump the broken fence that surrounded it at a safe distance from the building itself. She tripped slightly, her shoe briefly being caught on the broken wood and tearing the material. It didn't matter though. Even with the shoe slipping off of her foot, she still ran, no change in pace.

Tempest almost tripped again when she finally stopped at the doorway of the Shack. It was already open- _He_ mustn't have been bothered about privacy at the time. Or perhaps he simply didn't expect to be waiting for very long. Tempest held her breath, her blood drumming in her ears far too loudly for her to hear any of the noises that sounded within the Shack. Finally, the determination came to move again, and she pushed forward. By this point, Tempest could feel her whole body shake as she waited for what would come. If only to see Severus there again, the day without him having dragged out disturbingly.

It had been years since she had spent a day without his company. Tempest attempted to persuade herself into thinking this was the reason she was as anxious as she was. And perhaps it was. She did not want to think of any other option, whether it was right or not.

Footsteps were coming towards her as she entered the hallway that wound its way through the Shack. Tempest braced herself, stopping dead to wait for whomever it was that was coming towards her. She recognised the soft padding of feet, far too soft for any ordinary human, but dared not to mention the name within her own head. Of course, she had been right, and her body froze at the sight of the Dark Lord making his way towards her. He was nonchalant, of course, as if she did not exist. Tempest was quite sure he would have passed by her without a moment's notice if she had not spoken.

"My Lord," she said timidly, raising a hand in a childish fashion. "My Lord, I have been told that you requested to speak to Severus."

"I did." The reply was brief. Bored.

"Oh. Yes, I just wanted to know it was true. That he was okay. I have not seen him all day and I just needed to know that someone has seen him."

"I would not worry about him any longer, child, he no longer possesses you."

"Excuse me?"

He did not answer this question. He did not even look at Tempest as he walked away, his head held proudly. Tempest waited for a moment. A minute. It was as if an hour had passed. A voice in her head told her what had happened. She knew what had happened. But it couldn't be true. She wouldn't allow it to be true. She was simply free, that was all. The Dark Lord had more important matters than ensuring that she was doing her duty as his property. It was just something he said. Nothing important.

_You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you…_

It didn't matter what else was said, it didn't concern her. No, she had to go onwards. Meet Severus halfway. It had been too long for comfort by this point. The doorway was within her view now. There was barely any light, not enough to light up the hallway too well. Tempest could barely see the floor below her or the walls at her sides, but could concentrate well enough on that doorway. She could hear footsteps within the main room of the Shack, the footsteps and voices growing fainter as they ran away. Even if she ran into whoever it was, Tempest wouldn't care. She was past the emotion.

With an abrupt force, Tempest found herself crashing into the already breaking door of the room and falling to the ground, landing on her knees. She placed her hands on the ground to steady herself, breathing heavily. It hadn't seemed as if she'd taken breath since she began running. At that moment, it didn't occur to her at that moment that the room was too silent. It didn't occur that no one came forward to her, placed a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't notice either that the floor wasn't as dry as it should have been.

Tempest opened her eyes and found herself shaking as she saw the sticky, red blood seeping through her fingers, staining her palms. It still looked as if it flowed freely from its source, running across the floor, soaking her knees as she felt it stain her clothing. She looked upwards and saw the source of the bleeding. The huddled mound of clothing and flesh. Mutilated. Disgusting.

Severus.


	55. Chapter 55

_A long, long time ago I fell to this place  
From another dimension  
And thrust amongst the beasts  
And they way they behave borders on dementia  
-Feathery Wings, Voltaire_

"Severus?"

He didn't reply.

"Severus? Sev?"

He still wouldn't reply.

Slowly, Tempest crawled forwards with barely enough energy to do so. Her knees scraped across the floor and her hands were bloodied further as the blood bathed them and her skin was ripped by splinters of wood. Her hand finally reached out and caught the material of Severus's robes, grasping it as if her life depended on it.

"We've got to go, Severus," she whimpered, pulling herself forward. "He'll… He'll be angry. I don't want to see you get hurt if we're late."

Tempest's second hand grabbed the material as well, grasping the robes. Her knuckles went white with the pressure. Her eyes glazed over and her cheeks flushed pink as the realisation sunk in. It still didn't stop her from saying whatever she could to try and make the situation less real.

"Stop pretending now, Severus. Stop it. You can't be… no, you're _not_. You can't be!" Tempest sniffed loudly, closing her eyes tightly to stop crying. "You can't leave me alone like this. Who else do I have? You can't leave me with no one else to talk to! Not now! Not when everyone's angry with me, not when people want to kill me, you can't leave me! I won't let you! Severus, just _wake up_!"

She was screaming now, her words disappearing into incoherent rants until finally Tempest found herself uttering loud shrieks of rage, just a noise rather than words. She paused only for breath before she would start screaming again, the pattern continuing for almost half the hour, she collapsed with exhaustion and buried her face in the robes, sobbing dry tears. It didn't matter that the blood that stained those clothes now smeared her face, stinging her eyes and running down her cheek.

"We have to go," she finally whispered, her throat closing and her eyes stinging. Tempest shivered slightly as she lifted her head, her eyes not quite meeting the empty ones beside her. She knew he wouldn't move, and hated herself for the pathetic pretence she was putting up.

_It isn't fair_.

With a deliberate slowness, Tempest pushed herself from the floor, not bothering to look down to see the mess that had become of her in that room. The blood was already drying itself creating a grotesque pattern against her skin. When she finally began to walk, Tempest could feel herself swaying, her legs trying desperately not to give way beneath her causing her to limp. The floorboards creaked and the sound echoed, though no one was there to hear it.

Hogsmeade was pitch black by the time she reached it. It was surprising to see such a lack of security, though Tempest put it down to the fear for the injured and dead that consumed the castle at this time. In times of loss, one wouldn't care what would become of themselves. Entering the castle grounds was almost too easy. Far too easy. Maybe if she stayed there a moment longer, someone would appear from the shadows, part of a trap. No one came, though.

What else had she expected? No one would come for her. No one cared enough to protect her. No one cared enough to hunt her down. No one cared that she was alone, no one cared that she was still crying, no one cared that nothing was _right_ with what was happening.

No one cared that it wasn't fair.

_It isn't fair_.

The words rang through her head until finally Tempest had to stop, overwhelmed by the sound of the words being screamed over and over again in her head. It wouldn't stop. _It isn't fair, it isn't fair, it isn't fair_. Over and over. Tempest fell against a nearby tree, her fingernails digging into the bark of the trunk and tearing at her skin. The blood on her hands could no longer be distinguished as either hers or Severus's.

_It isn't fair, it isn't fair, it isn't fair._

_And it's all _his_ fault._

There was no doubt in her mind any longer. If she had been born an only child, none of this would have happened. If he had given himself up sooner, this wouldn't have happened. If he didn't have to play the martyr. If he had known anything that Severus had done for him. If he had just _died_. Tempest didn't know what brought forward the sudden surge of hatred and bitterness, but felt it consume every fibre of her being.

So she ran again. Fear had driven her before and with much more success than rage did, the latter doing nothing but weakening her as she moved on. The grounds were just about deserted, only a few people dotted around finding injured or dead bodies on the grass. Tempest moved to the edge of the forest, knowing full well the only thing she could do at this time was go back to the camp, as she had promised. The Malfoys would not worry about her, but would be glad of her return. If not, then perhaps Draco would have cared. It was the only pull she had towards the camp at this time and she clung onto it through the red mist of anger.

Movement amongst the trees made her stop, though. There were voices, familiar in their own special ways.

"Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over."

"I didn't want you to die. Any of you. I'm sorry… right after you'd had your son… Remus, I'm sorry-"

Remus? And… Sirius. Yes, It _was_ Sirius. Tempest dropped to her hands and knees so as to spread her weight and cause as little noise as possible. She could not be heard over the sounds of voices which she intensely savoured before she could even see who it was that spoke. She did of course recognise Harry's voice. Her brow furrowed as she thought. Sirius was dead. Harry had just mentioned that Remus was dead. How could he possibly speak to them?

And then she saw. They were almost ghostly apparitions, blurred to see and ethereally white. As if they were glowing. If she squinted, they _were_ glowing. And the others… Tempest held her breath as she surveyed the other two figures there. One was obvious to recognise, her hair and features all familiar. It was the man that Lily stood beside that fascinated her slightly more. He too was somehow familiar, though she had never once seen his image before. James Potter.

All four of them were standing, looking at the same area. _He's invisible_. It didn't take long to figure out. Tempest concentrated on the ground for a moment before she found the dent in the leaves imprinted by Harry's feet. She knew where he was now. And she knew what he was doing. He was speaking to the loved ones that _she_ wanted to talk to. The parents she had never been able to talk to and the two potential friends she was forced to betray.

He had the fame. He had the friends. He had the life she never had. He had the chance to do whatever he wanted, but he wasted it away on the glory of a martyr. He'd had almost everything. And now the only thing he couldn't do before was his.

_It isn't fair_!

She didn't care if she ruined his moment. Tempest's movement caught the attention of James Potter, who she hadn't a moment to stare at before he cried out.

"Watch it!"

He wasn't quick enough. Harry had not been given enough warning to evade the spell that hit him, knocking him backwards and his Stone leaving his hand, the lack of contact making the apparitions disappear. He only had a moment to register his fall before he felt a knee jam itself into his rib and hands grab at the neck of his shirt.

"Don't you already have enough?" Tempest seethed, her teeth gritted and her eyes burning. "You have _everything_, why did you have to take them as well?"

"What are you talking about?" He blinked a few times and then looked at Tempest for the first time with clear vision, his eyes widening at the sight of her. He too recognised that familiar red hair, the large, green eyes. "Who are… mum?"

The absurdity failed to strike Tempest before her anger did. She released Harry's shirt from one of her hands and clenched her fist, striking him in the jaw. A trickle of blood ran down his lip as he stared up towards Tempest, his hand twitching to wipe away the blood but his instincts telling him to keep still.

"Who _are_ you then?"

"Oh, that's right. Even from beyond the grave, they had to keep precious little Harry safe, didn't they? Even when you're about to _die_, they had to spare little Potter the grief!"

"Beyond the grave?" Suddenly Harry's eyes widened slightly. "They told me only I could see them, they were…"

"Part of you," Tempest murmured, trembling. She'd heard it all. "They're part of _me_ too."

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked, his voice muffled as he wiped away the fresh trickle of blood. "Who are you?"

Tempest froze at this moment, her eyes locking with her brother's. She had never imagined how she would say it, not had she properly envisioned a day coming where she would be forced to do so. But now the day was here. The moment was here.

"Dumbledore didn't want me to tell you," she whispered, her face going pale. Harry seemed to notice this, but it only gave him confidence.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

_Don't say it. It's not worth it_.

Tempest looked up and around, hearing the silence. She was suddenly alert of the situation they were in. Of the time. She looked down again at Harry and moved away, not stopping until her back hit a tree.

"Just get out of here," she said quickly, looking pointedly in any direction. "You'll die if you go up there."

"That's the point," he replied bitterly as he grabbed hold of his cloak. Tempest didn't take much notice of it then, her eyes still darting about wildly.

"No. You can't die. Just leave, now. Go back to the castle."

"Look, I don't know who you are or… or what you're doing, but I'm not going back up there."

"You have to leave! Just do it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay."

Harry turned away and walked through the trees. There was no use in staying behind with the stranger who refused to answer his questions. At the point of death, his curiosity in her similarities waned into a sallow depression.

"What if I told you I was your sister?"

"I don't have a sister."

"But what if you did?"

He stopped slowly, his feet still shuffling slightly. There was a silence that hung in the air, almost painful. Tempest watched him carefully, unsure whether she should speak. It didn't seem appropriate, but she was suddenly scared of him ignoring her question. Scared that he would walk away and ignore her, just like everyone else. Surely even Perfect Harry Potter could spare a moment for her? Her own brother?

In an almost excruciatingly slow movement, Harry turned around, his eyes no longer as distant. He stared at Tempest as if surveying her, taking in each feature.

"I know what you're doing," he said finally, his eyes not moving from her. "You've gotten some sort of Transfiguration spell to… to mess with my mind or something, haven't you? Giving myself up wasn't enough for Him, was it."

"It's not a spell, Harry."

"Look, you must've been sent here for a reason. Just get whatever it is over and done with so I can leave."

"It's not a trick, Harry. I've not been sent to get you."

He shook his head and turned again towards the trees. Tempest could only stand wavering, biting her lip until she tasted the fresh, bitter blood trickling down her lip. There was only one thing left to do. She extended a hand towards Harry and could not help the volume of her voice.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry was pushed by the force of the spell into the nearest tree, attempting to regain his balance after the fall. He looked back towards Tempest whose previous rage had been renewed.

"You've had everything! You have friends, you have followers, you got to see our parents! And now you're a fucking martyr! Do you actually _need_ all this attention?"

There was no time for him to reply at this point. Both turned their heads abruptly towards the sound of a cracking twig. A tall, filthy looking man whose wand was raised stood there, glaring at them. Tempest recognised him vaguely, though he was merely one of the many Death Eaters whose faces were familiar, but whose names she could not find the will to remember. She straightened up and sniffed, blinking furiously to stop any trace of tears.

"Put down your wand," she said firmly, squaring her shoulders and turning to face the man. "You have no business here with it."

"I have some business here with you," the man replied, half grinning. He then looked towards Harry and his grin widened. "You've been summoned, and I suppose I was lucky to find Potter here at the same time."

_Ignore him_. Tempest held her head high and followed the man through the last moments of the forest before the campsite. She heard Harry following them, and when she turned her head she could see that though he still looked at her, his confusion displayed no trust in her claims. He wouldn't believe her. They had travelled little to reach the campsite, but the time dragged out painfully.

All the Death Eaters had gathered now, though the Malfoys took a more preferable place by the Dark Lord's side. They looked up quickly upon seeing her, though there was no relief in their eyes. Draco wasn't there. Tempest felt a shiver down her spine as she took in this fact, but was quickly distracted. All attention was drawn to them as Tempest and the stranger who had fetched them wandered as close to the crowd as they could, leaving Harry in the clearing.

They all rose at the sight. Voldemort's features were calm, disbelieving. His concentration was placed solely on Harry, his red eyes burning into Harry's green ones. There were murmurs, cries, laughter and delight pouring from the Death Eaters as they all lay their own eyes on Harry, bathing in the victory of that moment.

"Harry! No!" Tempest turned her head along with many others to see the ground keeper, Hagrid, tied to one of the trees. He was fighting as furiously as he could, but was silenced by Rowle.

"The boy who lived," Voldemort said softly, almost overpowered by the sound of the fire. He suddenly turned his head and Tempest felt her blood run cold. "Come forward."

No one else moved, and Tempest was left to walk forward herself, her hands shaking. Her eyes were cast downwards, glancing only quickly at Harry whose own fear had forced him to stand perfectly still, his eyes only looking at the Dark Lord.

"How nice," He began, his voice still soft, "that you two should meet before you die. But I believe that you have already met without my permission."

"I had not known you had disallowed it," Tempest murmured, attempting to keep control over her tone.

"Perhaps I had simply thought you more intelligent than attempting to foil my plans. You always knew how to stick your nose in places where it doesn't belong."

Tempest did not reply and instead waited for the silence to settle. She knew, though, that He was far from finished in his taunts.

"Do not think that you may simply simper your way through this," Voldemort continued, his hand carefully posed with his wand at the ready. "I know what you were saying to our Harry Potter. I know that you have been trying to save him."

She found at that moment that she could barely breath. _You stupid girl_! She should have kept her voice down, she should have just left the situation as it was, just not said anything at all…

"I understand, though, that you are not the only one who has been foolish. Is it true, Harry Potter, that you do not believe your sister's words?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Tempest could see that Harry had become somewhat more tense, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he forced himself to remain still. Tempest herself had stiffened, seeing that the facts had been taken in.

"Is it not ungrateful of him?" Voldemort asked out loud, gesturing towards his Death Eaters, addressing them. "That he should be so ignorant of his own sister, after all she has done in his name? Forsaken the chance to be with family? Hidden herself away to spare him grief? And worst of all, witness his torture through the years, unable to do a thing?"

There were murmurs through the crowds, though no clear outbursts could be heard. Voldemort turned his attention again directly towards the two, lifting his wand slightly higher.

"Then perhaps it is time he repaid the favour."

Unsure for only a second, Tempest suddenly realised the meaning behind the words as she collapsed to the floor, screaming. She found herself unable to comprehend anything around her, only able to concentrate on the searing pain running through her veins, tearing at her with no particular aim. She could feel herself pleading for him to stop, begging. It felt pitiful to do so, though she could no longer hold back.

And finally, it stopped.

When her mind finally cleared itself, Tempest realised that she was whimpering pathetically into the dirt, the humiliation taking over her. There was no one even now beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked upwards to see Harry who had shifted slightly towards her, but still maintained his distance.

"Just kill me," she murmured, unaware that she had done so until after the words had left her.

"What did you say?" The amusement was all too clear in his tone. Tempest looked up towards Voldemort, her breathing heavier.

"You've taken _everything _away from me! You killed Severus, you killed my parents, and you're going to kill my brother, just kill _me!"_

Harry could not help but stare now at Tempest, the mention of Snape's name causing alarm. And then he saw the desperation in her eyes, the welling tears. She had known far longer than he had about Snape's past. Voldemort's lips curled backwards into a sneer as he stared intently towards Harry.

"Only one Potter shall die by my hand tonight," he said softly, his voice lowered again to a point where barely a person could hear it. Barely a person was left in doubt, though, as a flash of green consumed the area, almost blindingly, and Harry Potter fell to the floor.


	56. Chapter 56

_Leave me out with the waste  
This is not what I do  
It's the wrong kind of place  
To be thinking of you  
-9 Crimes, Damien Rice_

No one had expected the reaction that they saw once Harry had fallen to the ground, dead. As he had fallen, Voldemort too collapsed, apparently weakened by the curse. Bellatrix was one of the first to dive forward, kneeling near his side- far too scared to approach too closely- with her hands posed as if ready to touch him.

"My Lord… _my Lord_…"

More Death Eaters had crowded in now, curious and worried. Tempest could feel two arms hook themselves under hers and pull her up with a weak amount of strength. She looked up and saw Lucius, though was unable to smile towards him. She instead clung to his shoulders, shaking violently in a manner that almost disallowed her to stand.

"That will do," Voldemort said, standing as he said so. Bellatrix still remained still, though others backed a few feet away.

"My Lord, let me-"

"I do not require assistance. The boy… is he dead?"

There was silence as the crowd suddenly froze, barely the sound of breath audible in the air. Voldemort surveyed them for a moment as his followers avoided his gaze, never meeting his eyes. Finally he seemed to lose patience and stared directly towards the Malfoys.

"You," he said, raising his wand and sending a sharp spell towards Narcissa, scorching her foot. She cried out in pain and stepped forward. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

Narcissa nodded and moved towards the body, her movements slow and deliberate. Tempest turned her head away, unable to watch. There was only a short pause after Narcissa bent over the body before she raised her head and called out.

"He is dead!"

There were cheers now, yells and cries of joy and victory. The sound was almost too much and it was unbelievable to think that those in the castle would not be able to hear them. Voldemort held his head high upon hearing the words, bathing in the cheers of his followers.

"You see?" he screeched. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! _Crucio_!"

Of course. He wouldn't leave the body alone. He wouldn't let the years of humiliation get the best of him. Harry's body was lifted into the air several times as if he were only a rag doll. It was an entertaining sight for most as laughter raised through the air, jeers and calls acting as a requiem mass.

"Now, we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No- Wait-"

He moved towards Hagrid and with a few flicks of his wand, the rope binding him to the tree fell to the floor. Assumedly under the force of another spell, Hagrid was forced forward towards the body.

"You carry him. He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses- put on the glasses- he must be recognisable."

The half giant wept heavily over the lost hero, and the sight was the last thing Tempest could see. She let go of Lucius and dropped to her knees, crying almost as heavily as he did. Narcissa had moved back and clung onto Lucius, though looked with concern for a moment towards Tempest. The command had been given, though, and the Death Eaters were now following Voldemort back through the forest. Towards the castle. The Malfoys could spare only a moment of pity for the girl before they moved onwards, Narcissa's eagerness evident even in her fear. Tempest took no notice, though, and only continued to cry, smudges appearing on her cheeks where her tears washed away the blood.

Whether it was the scent of the blood, the memories of death or simply the force with which she cried, Tempest could not stop herself heaving. Clutching her ribs, she vomited violently, her throat burning. It only made her cry out louder, though, and soon Tempest found herself unable to make a sound from lack of energy. She finally began to crawl forward, breathing heavily. Determined. _Make it to the castle. Just get somewhere._ She could not help but sigh in relief when she finally made it again to her feet, still shaking, but at least standing. Though the victory was strong, it didn't last long, and before she could savour the moment Tempest found herself on her knees again, clutching her stomach, heaving though there was nothing left in her.

It took a moment before Tempest realised that this small area she had found herself in was familiar. Had she not recently been here? _He dropped something here_. It was a strange thought, but in that moment Tempest found that she had a sudden urge to search through the leaves. Something had been dropped, and the moment it had gone, so had her parents. _How hadn't I realised that before_? It seemed so simple an idea now. That stone- she was sure it was a stone- it was connected to them. She searched frantically now, her fingernails clogged up with filth and dirt as she dug through the leaves and mud, searching.

Finally her fingertips touched the small, round object and Tempest felt her heart leap slightly as she grasped it, resting it safely in the palm of her hand. She instinctively knew what to do with it, as if the stone had a mind of its own and was telling her its secrets. As she turned the stone thrice over in her hand, a voice echoed through the trees, disturbing her.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

The words pounded in her head. It had all been too easy for him, hadn't it? He had won, and all it had taken to do so was a few threats. It really had been too easy. There was a rustling of movement behind her and Tempest turned her head sharply to see the two figures standing behind her. She swallowed thickly, her eyes wide and her mouth dry.

"Mum?" she whispered softly. "Dad?"

There they were. Standing there in front of her, both of them frightened. _Frightened_. Scared at the very idea, Tempest pulled at her sleeve and dabbed at her face, trying to get rid of the traces of blood. She did, of course, not succeed, and knew this, only causing her to shake more. Her parents held each other, and she could see that her mother's own eyes were watering as they surveyed her.

"Mum? Dad?" Tempest knew it was childish, but she couldn't help but repeat herself. She relished the words. But they didn't reply. They still remained silent, as if they weren't able to talk at all. Panic started to rise in her throat. "Did… did I do it wrong? Did I do something wrong? I mean, I haven't… I haven't been wonderful, I know I haven't been- haven't been Harry, but I-"

"I'm sorry," Lily interrupted quickly, her fingers gripping James tightly. "I'm sorry for what happened to you."

"We hadn't expected things to turn out the way they did," James continued. The sound of his voice made Tempest flinch slightly; she hadn't ever thought about how he would sound, but it was somewhat more comforting than she had ever dreamt. "If we could have changed anything…"

"We never wanted this for you. For either of you."

"You're not… angry with me?"

"Angry with you?" Lily asked shrilly, her eyes wide. "How could we be angry with you?"

Tempest held her breath as she lifted her sleeve, bearing her arm and the mark imprinted on it.

"Because of this! All of the things I did, all the people I let get hurt. Because I wasn't as brave as you were."

"And you seemed so clever," James said with a forced laugh. Both he and Lily released each other and knelt on the ground in front of Tempest, their features all the more entrancing to her from this clearer point of view. "We could never be angry at you. You're one of the bravest people we know of."

"I'm no Harry."

"No one asked you to be. Harry was simply given a different hand in life to you."

"But you mustn't think we love you any less for it," Lily added, smiling assuredly through tears. "This has all just been an accident. A horrible accident."

James nodded emphatically, his own eyes shining. Tempest could only look at them for a moment, taking in their image, concentrating on every feature. Finally, though, the initial shock wore off and Tempest's brow furrowed in thought.

"Is Severus there?" Lily laughed abruptly as James smiled weakly, running his fingers through his messy hair.

"You can summon anyone if you like." She thought for a moment and felt a lump in her throat. It wouldn't be fair to summon him now. Not knowing how her father felt towards Severus and her mother's friendship with him. This was a moment for her _family_. Tempest concentrated, but looking up again found herself confused.

"So where's Harry?" Her parents smiles spread quickly upon hearing the question, their eyes shining knowingly.

"He's at the castle," said Lily, moving her hand out towards her daughter but hesitating and pulling her hand back. Tempest barely noticed, though, her mind racing.

"You mean… no, I _saw_ him, Voldemort killed him right in front of me."

"He survived it," James said softly, his watering eyes almost glittering.

"No. No, I saw him, he wasn't moving, Narcissa checked the body and she said he was dead, she said-" Tempest stopped in mid sentence and thought. For a moment, she stared out with vacant eyes, then suddenly let out a bark of laughter. "I didn't think she could be so crafty."

Tempest stood again, her breathing calm. She saw her parents stand hesitantly, but their eyes were suddenly doubtful again, almost scared. The abrupt change caused Tempest to freeze for a moment, watching them carefully.

"What is it?"

"We can't come with you," said James, his voice slow. Tempest nodded, smiling gently.

"I thought as much. You don't mind, do you? If I drop the stone? Just until tomorrow- I promise, just until tomorrow."

"We can't let you do that."

She stopped and waited for a more extended explanation that would not come. Lily smiled assuredly, but the doubt in her eyes would not leave her. James, on the other hand, remained steady and calm, attempting to keep himself quiet.

"And why not?" Tempest asked quietly, her voice shaking.

"You know why," Lily continued, seeing that her husband was unable to speak. "You have read the story of the three brothers, you know that no good comes of the stone."

"That was just a story. You don't know that would happen, I'm sure it wouldn't be as bad as all that."

"We couldn't risk that."

Tempest paused, staring at them for a minute or so. They, though, refused to change their minds, and in return attempted to stare her down. She suddenly found herself crying again, rubbing her eye with the back of her hand childishly to try and prevent the tears.

"This isn't fair," she wept pitifully, her grip tightening around the stone.

"It's the way it has to be," James said, his voice breaking as he said it. "But you can't be scared. We will meet again some day."

"It won't be soon enough."

"It never is," said Lily.

A dull pain started to make itself apparent in Tempest's wrist as the strain of gripping the stone became too much. There were cries sounding out from the direction of the castle becoming more and more violent as the seconds passed, until there was nothing but a distant buzz of anger.

"Just let go. You need to be with them."

"I don't wanna go," Tempest whimpered, the stone leaving grooves in her palm. But now the dull murmur was burning itself into her ears, clouding her mind. "I don't want to leave you."

"We're so sorry."

With a shuddering sigh, Tempest opened her hand and looked at the stone resting in her palm. She held her breath and bit her tongue, quickly trying to calm herself. Finally, Tempest looked up again towards her parents and smiled weakly.

"I'll miss you," she whispered. And with that, she threw the stone away and turned abruptly, running full pace to the castle.

_It isn't fair, it isn't fair, it isn't fair_!

That didn't matter anymore. As the space between her and the castle lessened, Tempest felt her confidence grow, her determination become stronger. The battle was in full throng now, spilling out of the castle. Tempest barely realised that she was calling out Harry's name, searching for him in the crowd. Few heads turned her way, but when students began to recognise her, she found herself casting more and more Shielding Charms to survive. She was fortunately swift, though, and dove through the crowd before they could do any damage.

Before long, Tempest could feel her eyes lock with someone else's. The eyes were unfamiliar, but she could recognise that flaming red hair and those angry features anywhere. It took only the shortest moment for Ginny Weasley to recognise Tempest in return, and her wand was raised almost immediately. The weak attempt at a Shielding Charm was in vain as it disappeared and Tempest was struck with an almost equally weak curse. Strong enough, though, to stun her slightly.

"Come and fight then, you bitch!" Ginny screamed, sending another curse. Tempest attempted another Shield but was cut off quickly as the girl threw a continuous stream of ill-aimed spells.

"I'm not gonna fight you, Weasley," Tempest shouted back, kicking away the rubble that covered her path. Ginny raised her wand again for another curse before she fell backwards as a different curse was fired towards her. Tempest felt a firm hand push her away and Bellatrix's familiar, excited eyes glittering in her direction.

"Figures you wouldn't fight properly," she said, though without a hint of anger in her tone. Tempest smiled half heartedly at the same cocky manner of speech she was so used to.

"Thanks." It was only a murmur, but even if Tempest had shouted the words she doubted Bellatrix would have taken notice of them. Ginny had already jumped to her feet and started firing spells, the first barely brushing past Tempest before the Weasley's attention was brought to Bellatrix again. The last thing Tempest saw as she turned around was the strange girl Luna that she recognised from passing in corridors, and Hermione Granger, who was only recognisable from recent photos published in _The Daily Prophet_.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!"

A fair amount of people turned at hearing this, the ferocity with which Molly Weasley spoke being the most abrupt and surprising thing one could hear at that point in time amongst the inane and constant sound of fighting. Tempest had never seen Bellatrix so angry or- dare she even think it?- _upstaged_. It was a rare sight that she was sure she hadn't seen before. The idea of it was so disturbingly entrancing that Tempest could not help but watch with dazed eyes, a cloud of fear.

Deep down, she knew how this battle had to end. Good had to win over evil. But in her haze of memories, Tempest had all but forgotten that Bellatrix _was_ evil. She was surrounded by evil every day. The people she was used to seeing, one or two she carried affection for, were doomed to fail in this battle if it ended the way they knew it would. So why did it seem such a shock to see Bellatrix die?

Tempest could not help but scream as she saw Bellatrix fall, clinging onto her elbows and trying her hardest not to launch forward. She had been pushed backwards with the crowds that had now lined against the walls, watching Bellatrix die and Voldemort fight.

"_Protego_!"

And suddenly he was there. Harry revealed himself having cast the Shielding Charm, dropping his Invisibility Cloak to the floor and showing himself to all. There was excitement in the hall, hisses or stunned faces from the Death Eaters and cheers of joy from others. Tempest moved forward eagerly but was halted as a pair of hands grabbed her awkwardly, an arm hooked around her neck and waist. She faintly recognised the man as one of Rodolphus's closer friends and settled down from her struggles quickly. The only thing left to do was just to stare at Harry, waiting.

They were almost too calm as they spoke. At least, Harry was. As Harry's confidence grew, Voldemort's withered, the idea of his defeat somehow becoming embedded in his mind. It was subtle, though she was knew the fear was there.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry said, causing Tempest to stiffen. "Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother."

Tempest could feel the eyes of the few Death Eaters surrounding her burn into her skin, anger flaming.

"-but he was Dumbledore's spy since the moment that you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since!"

There were a few faces from the professors of Hogwarts that became somewhat more melancholy at these words. While they realised their sorrows, the surrounding Death Eaters became angrier, the man holding Tempest releasing her waist and pressing the wand against her. The blood rushed from her face as she was forced to simply stand there and watched Voldemort and her brother circle each other, waiting for the outcome and for the wand at her side to cast the final curse.

_Or run away_. It was the only way to escape dying when the final battle was won. The results would be known soon enough anyway. If Harry was to win, she would either be free or die at the hands of this stranger, and if Voldemort won then she would die in any case for her betrayal to the cause by Severus's side. Tempest edged her hand forward and placed it gently against the stranger's coat, hoping he would not notice, and muttered under her breath. He crumpled silently and released Tempest, giving her the chance to slip away before anyone else could take hold of her.

Moving through the crowd, Tempest felt invisible. Not an eye was turned towards her, all fixated on her brother instead. It felt safe, safe enough for her to be left in peace simply hoping. She finally heard the spells being cast as she burst through the other side of the crowd, awkwardly wedged in a manner that made it difficult to simply leave the Hall.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The sound was almost deafening, the light was blinding. It took all of Tempest's willpower to not turn around and look, though she was quite sure of the outcome of the fight when the uproar of cheers, screams and general noise deafened the Hall, complimenting the newfound sunlight that streamed into the room. Death Eaters were running from the Hall already, seeing their downfall as imminent. The outskirts of the room became more dangerous as Aurors followed the Death Eaters, attacking and capturing those that they could. Tempest backed away quickly further into the castle's entrance, firing Stunning Charms whenever she saw a recognisable Death Eater. Wands were turned against her once or twice in the next few minutes, but upon recognising her face and position they turned away, though with less a sense of gratitude than of duty.

Though some escaped, there was a sense of release in seeing most captured in front of her eyes. Years of work and waiting had finally brought itself to an end in this moment, a moment many couldn't have dreamed would come. Tempest sniffed, shaking her head and tensing her shoulders. _No tears_. She turned her head away from the crowds and instead towards the doorway that lead to the staircases. For a quick second she looked to ensure that no one was following her and then walked away from the others, all of them ignorant of her as they embraced their families.

The portraits on the walls ran excitedly from frame to frame as the news spread of the Dark Lord's defeat, some celebrating and others shrieking the name '_Voldemort_!' to one another, laughing uproariously at their daring natures. There was no more fear in the name now, and it seemed the fact would be abused. Tempest passed by the portraits with little more than a knowing smile and passing glance, her head instead kept down for the large part of her journey.

The gargoyle seemed almost unaware of Tempest's presence, but jumped aside lazily, yawning as he did so, used to the request by this point. The office itself was somewhat more of a fright to see, though. In the past year, the portraits had remained for the most part empty, or at least the residents feigned sleep. They didn't want to relate themselves to the most controversial headmaster of Hogwarts. However, this morning, the frames were filled with past headmasters chatting and drinking amongst themselves. They turned momentarily to see the new intruder, but recognised Tempest and turned away again, uninterested.

There was only one portrait of interest. Dumbledore already sat looking out of his frame, smiling upon seeing Tempest enter.

"It seemed right to come up here." She offered the words more as a defence than explanation, going cold as she considered the obvious fact that she was not welcome. Dumbledore, however, nodded.

"I had assumed that you would have taken this time to find Harry. Or at the very least the Malfoy family. I'm sure they are wondering where you are."

"They won't. And I'm sure Harry has someone else to occupy him for now." She paused, turning her head away before allowing herself to look Dumbledore straight in the eye. "Did you know he would survive?"

Dumbledore's smile turned slightly more solemn as he shook his head, pressing his fingertips together in a thoughtful pose.

"I had my suspicions."

Tempest nodded slowly, thinking. It didn't really matter either way. Maybe she would just feel better having asked rather than leaving the subject without a passing glance. There was a pause of silence in which Dumbledore seemed prepared to take any question that Tempest could throw at him before an uproar of noise sounded from the portraits on the walls. Tempest turned sharply around with her back pressed against the desk, stiffened. She had been far too used to the idea of these noises signalling havoc that she had entirely forgotten the idea of the newfound calm and safety in the castle.

The cheers did not die down as the hero of the day entered the room, as he stopped abruptly when seeing the familiar face by the desk. The two became immediately unaware of Harry's friends who stood behind him, wary and unsure whether or not to bring their wands out. Harry was the first to move, bringing Tempest from her state of fear and forcing her to push herself forward and meet him halfway.

Neither knew what to say. _What is there to say_? Harry cleared his throat without a word in his mind and held out a hand. Tempest stared at it blankly for a moment before holding out her own, shaking his firmly. The other two seemed far too bemused to say a word, finally deciding it best to leave their wands be for that moment.

With a reassuring smile, Tempest moved past the three friends and exited the office, daring to consider the encounter as successful as she could hope.

"What was that about?" Ron asked once the girl had left the room. Harry paused and then shrugged.

"Just someone I met in the fight," Harry replied as nonchalantly as he could, turning his attention towards Dumbledore's portrait.

Tempest flitted down the steps until she returned to the Great Hall, families having separated themselves and huddling in isolated groups, a few people scattered and running from group to group, the chatter still excitable and evident in the room. She scanned the room quickly before spotting the familiar white blonde hair that had caught her attention so many times before, but more often than not with far less relief in their appearance. As Tempest approached the Malfoys, they seemed initially unaware of her until she stood before them, her eyes dry but the evidence of tears still encrusted on her cheeks. Lucius and Narcissa looked up at her from their spot on the floor for a moment until Lucius nodded and extended an arm.

Gratefully, Tempest fell into the embrace which was deepened as Draco wrapped an arm around her as well. A slight pressure was felt on her head as Narcissa pressed the tip of her wand against Tempest's head, and she saw her hair fade to the same shade of blonde that the family held. There was nothing to say in appreciation of this, and so Tempest could only rest her head on her adoptive mother's shoulder.

And with a sigh, she could feel herself slip into a sleep so peaceful that she was amazed she had awoken from it.


	57. Chapter 57

_I was so happy when you smiled  
Your smile breaks through the clouds of gray  
Far from the sunny days that lie in sleep  
Waiting with patience for the spring when the flowers can bloom renewed again  
Knowing there's more beyond the pain of today  
Although the scars of yesterday remain  
You can go on living as much as your heart believes  
You can't be born again although you can change  
Let's stay together always _

There was a fine mist that was starting to build up on the platform as the train prepared itself to leave for Hogwarts. Children were running towards each other, the boys eagerly play fighting while the girls grasped hands and chattered inanely. Young Scorpius Malfoy looked on with wide eyes, stiffened with fear as he saw the nonchalant rowdiness between other students. He jumped slightly as a particularly excited boy ran past, singing '_Slytherin_' under his breath.

Scorpius felt a firm hand his now tense shoulder and looked up towards his now smiling mother.

"You're just not used to the other children," she said reassuringly.

He nodded and felt his father also place a hand on his shoulder. His own smile wasn't nearly as reassuring- it was not in a Malfoy's breeding for emotions to be given out so easily- but the effort seen was enough.

"Why don't you go and look for Mariana? Or Adrian? They begin their first year today as well."

"What about Mal?" Scorpius asked quietly, looking around. "He just ran off."

"I don't know why he came today," Draco said, shaking his head. "He's finished with this, I told him to be searching for a position in the Ministry today."

"Which may be the very reason he decided to come. He doesn't _want _to work with the Ministry. Besides," she continued, crouching down by Scorpius and wrapping an arm around him, "he wanted to send his brother off."

Scorpius didn't react to this, looking off into the distance at another group huddles in the nearby distance of the platform. Tempest smiled as she looked in the same direction to see a small girl of Scorpius's age looking back.

"Who's that?" he asked quietly.

"Seems to be the Weasley clan," Draco said, looking towards his wife. She stood carefully and looked at the families that had mixed together so naturally. Draco gave a slight push to her shoulder, at which Tempest glared sharply towards him but resigned herself to giving in and moving forward further still. She felt a small burst of confidence as she saw Harry almost as nervous as he approached her as well.

"You're not one for keeping in touch, are you?" he called as they closed in the gap between them. A faint blush rose to Tempest's cheeks as he said so.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Guess I got a little distracted."

"For nineteen years?"

"Seems so."

This caused both to smile simultaneously before moving forward and embracing each other, laughing as they did so.

"We'd wondered what happened to you all these years, I haven't seen a sign of you anywhere."

"I like to keep to myself. I'm sure you know how that feels?"

"Just a bit," Harry admitted, releasing her. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry looked over Tempest's shoulder and shook his head. "So you married a Malfoy?"

"So you married a Weasley?"

"Touché."

"He's not really as bad as he makes himself out to be," Tempest said in her defence, lowering her head.

"They were hard times, we had to do things we didn't want to do."

"That much I know." Tempest nodded and smiled.

"But I suppose it was worth what we got out of it? You with a wife and two children."

"Three. I don't know where James got to."

"James," Tempest repeated, grinning with approval. "That's lovely."

"And the girl's Lily, of course. Then Albus."

"Albus?"

"Albus Severus, even," he added. Tempest's smile faltered slightly, though the subtle essence of approval left in her gave Harry comfort. He sensed her need for distraction and looked over her shoulder again. "And you, of course. You got a husband and child out of it all."

"Two."

"What?"

"I... I had two."

"Okay. Two." Tempest bit her lip and looked around. She seemed lost for a moment before spotting someone in the crowd and calling out for '_Mal_'. A pale face looked out from the crowd, having been before inconspicuous and distracted with a slightly younger girl. Upon noting his mother, the boy muttered his apologies and came forward.

"You bellowed?" he asked, smiling good-naturedly. Tempest nodded and turned back to Harry who was frozen slightly with disbelief.

If he had walked by in passing Harry would never have noticed the similarities, but standing so close to the boy he could not help but see it. The same black, flopping hair that had a slightly too greasy air, the pale skin, the tall stature, these features only mellowed by the influence of the Potter genes, introducing rounder eyes and a more welcoming aura.

"I wanted to introduce you to someone," Tempest said, gesturing towards Harry who jumped to action then and held out a hand to shake which Mal took greedily.

"Are you who I think you are? No, couldn't possibly be-"

"Yes. I am. I thought I'd gotten away from the fuss," he said, though not unkindly. Mal shook his head apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I have been a fan for some time- I've heard absolute legends about your Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, though your last year came before my first."

"It seems such a long time ago," Harry mused, though still slightly stunned. Mal noticed that the conversation was dwindling and quickly rushed to shake Harry's hand again.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr Potter, though, I must run off." Harry nodded and watched the boy walk off again, a slight spring in his step.

"You see the girl he's gone to talk to?" Tempest asked lightly. "Blaise Zabini's daughter, Opal."

"Small world," said Harry.

"Yes, though it does make dinner parties with the families awfully awkward."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter," Tempest said, shaking her head. They were quiet for a moment before Harry finally moved to speak, though Tempest rushed in quickly to stop him. "I know you probably don't think very much of me now, and I don't know really how it happened, but-"

"I'm not going to judge you," Harry interrupted. "It's just a little bit of a shock... yeah, just a bit of a shock." Tempest lowered her head again and bit her bottom lip, gripping it tightly with her teeth. "So were you in love?"

"I was," Tempest replied. "He wasn't. Who could replace Lily Evans?"

Without an answer to give, Harry only smiled and moved onwards with the conversation.

"The train will be leaving soon. I suppose we'll have to leave again."

"I suppose so."

"Then you have to come to tea one time," Harry said, laughing at the idea. "Ginny's been as eager to meet you again since she found out."

"I very much doubt it. She tried to kill me the last she saw me." Seeing Harry's face drop slightly she laughed and shook her head. "No, you must come to the Manor. I'm far too accustomed with marble to be around wood and brick."

Harry chuckled and placed a hand on his sister's shoulder.

"Then you have to promise this time that you will write. Or at least reply when _I _write. Now that I know where you've been."

"Oh, come now. You know where I live, and I'm certain the great Harry Potter doesn't have an issue popping over when he damn well pleases."

"I'll hold you to that," he said, smiling one last time as he backed away. "Now get a move on or you'll have a spare kid around for the year."

He darted off, Ginny's voice sounding somewhat more threatening as she called his name. When Harry made it to her side, she smiled and waved a hand towards Tempest, much to her surprise, though with all politeness she waved back before turning towards her husband and son.

Nothing had changed, really. Nothing had been resolved, if there was anything to begin with that needed resolving. And yet both parties parted feeling somewhat better. Knowing that there was promised time left in the future for change and conversation, for catching up, for whatever they needed to say to each other to somehow make the past more manageable. It wasn't a fairytale ending, not the sort that either had thought of in passing as things got rough. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that there simply a chance for the future.

_A/N- Wow. It's over. I mean… that took forever. Like, over two years. I actually cannot believe it took that long and that I've had these ideas in my head for that long, considering I have the attention span of a gnat. I want to thank all of you who are reading, and especially all my lovely reviewers who I've loved hearing from after each chapter. I'll hopefully start another story or one shot based on Harry Potter before the movie comes out [[OMG Who's so excited?]]. Again, thank you!_


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